The Legend of ChantriBova
by Zen'Aku Lati
Summary: Drama ensues when a team of novice heroes not only fight to foil the threat to thier world, but to stay sane in an increasingly hostile society. Can they keep it together long enough to see the mission to the end, or are they doomed to fall apart?
1. Ch1: Power Rangers: Keepers vs Takers

_The Destiny Trilogy _

Book One: _The Legend of Chantri-Bova_

**Author's note:**** All beta thanks due to Jareth, AKA Stellar Raven.**

Chapter 1: _Power Rangers: Keepers vs. Takers_

_**~Monday, August 25**__**th**_

_**Elsewhere…**_

Ptep gil-Matri felt rejuvenated, but acknowledged that the affects of the transfer were only temporary. _Soon I'll have the real thing…_

But for now, it was just enough.

He had been patient for two centuries, but now he was anxious to stretch his legs again; two hundred years of captivity will do that to you.

His beloved bride's spirit called to him once again. _I feel you, my Queen. We __**shall**__ be one again…_

It was time he left this place.

Ptep paused to smell the air. Rank. He smirked and backed up.

Moments later there came an explosion, taking out the side of the stone dungeon, and beyond the new doorway were his subjects: all blind loyalty, no soul.

Before making his way through, he shot up a quick prayer of thanks.

_Let's begin._

_**~Fletcher High School, Chestnut, New York~**_

It was five minutes before the bell was supposed to ring. Antoinette Campbell was leaning up against the wall next to the door, reading a book and munching on an apple. Moments later, she noticed a group of guys coming down the hall, the one in front being the loudest.

She looked back down at her book, almost one hundred percent sure they were going to walk right by her. But to her dismay, her ears informed her they were actually coming _toward_ her.

_Great, _she thought. _Here come the jocks._

"Well hello there, sweetness! Can I get a bite o' that apple?" said the forerunner in the red letter jacket.

Antoinette moved her eyes from the book, at him and then back to her book.

_So not impressed._

She continued to read, he continued to press.

"Excuse me, miss. I'm talking to you," he said, moving her book down from her eyes.

"Try **not** to touch the book," Antoinette said plainly, putting the book back up to eye level.

The blonde boy in red snorted, "Most girls would **love** it if I even _looked _at them…"

Raising a hand to cut him off, she dismissed, "You know what? Don't even finish that statement. First of all, you should maybe consider investing in a breath mint or two, and second of all, I suggest you back up some. Your nuts are within striking distance."

Just then the bell rang. She stood and headed for the classroom door.

"Oh, I see," said the red-clad jock, "You must be one of those chicks that don't like boys."

She whipped around and furrowed her brows at him. She would have to let him have that one; she had a class to go to.

Already, there were some kids in the room. Before she could fully step in herself, some dude pushed by her to take a seat in the middle.

As she passed by him, she stumbled over his deliberately protruding foot, but managed not to fall. She spun around to face him, and then glared at him for a split second before taking her book and whacking him over the head with it—hard.

There…now she could sit.

But she couldn't concentrate. Perhaps she was too serious for her own good. Perhaps she'd been too hasty in whacking him one upside the head.

The bell rang, signifying the end of the class, and up bolted the boy. In a flash, he was out the door.

She wanted to catch him so she could clear things up. He hadn't gotten far, though. In fact he was leaning up against the wall, as if he were waiting for something.

"There you are!" Antoinette began, approaching the guy. "I just wanted to say…"

That was as far as she got before she was rudely cut off by a shove. Antoinette's brow furrowed in confusion and anger.

He shoved her again. "I don't know who you think you are, geek, but _I _run things around here, and you'd do good to learn this quick."

_Aw __**hell**__ naw!_ she thought. _Now it's on._ She dropped her stuff and shoved him back. She didn't give damn that she was wearing a skirt and fairly high heels; she was going to kick this jerk-off's ass. She had her fill of bullies. Period.

"Look, buddy, I don't know who you've been dealing with, but I'm not the one." But at the last word, her breath was taken away on account of her back hitting the floor.

_Oh no he did __**not**__! _Antoinette sprang back up on her high-heeled feet and shouldered him as hard as she could into the wall, pinning him there.

Suddenly she felt arms wrap around her waist and pull her backwards away from the blue-clad jerk. She looked back over her shoulder. It was the same jock from earlier.

Successfully pulling her back, he stepped up to the bully. "You've stooped to a new low, man. Pickin' on girls."

The bully straightened his blue and white baseball shirt and walked off.

"Wow, miss. You've been a busy girl today!" said the red-clad jock, helping Antoinette gather her books. She thanked him as he handed them to her.

"See, I'm not that bad," he continued, smiling at her.

"I guess not," Antoinette said smiling while smoothing back her hair with her free hand. "I'm Antoinette, by the way."

"Brad," the red-clad boy introduced. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier. Why don't you join me and my friends at lunch?"

Antoinette considered…briefly.

"Sure, why the hell not?"

* * *

John was stewing in his seat. This girl had actually retaliated—and right away at that! Now instead of the kids in the class laughing at the girl when she fell—which she didn't—they were laughing at _him _getting a book upside the head. He had to get the ball back in his court, or his boys wouldn't let him live it down.

When the bell rang he got up and waited for her against the wall outside the class. He shoved her, hoping that she'd get shaken up. He was counting on his size or the fact that she might not want to mess up her hair or something to intimidate her, but he was surprised when she shoved him back!

_Now _what was he supposed to do? He never escalated a fight with a girl, and this girl wasn't backing down. Was he really going to hit her? Despite her small size and the fact that she was wearing those ridiculous shoes, she still managed to knock the wind out of him when she shouldered him into the wall.

Then out of nowhere, Brad the jock pulled her away from him, thus saving him from doing something he might regret. He took the opportunity to leave.

After taking a few steps, he decided to look back, out of curiosity, and there it was: Brad the jock gets the girl again...

Just typical.

* * *

Brad had come around the corner just in time to see a fight in progress. He'd been about to walk by; It didn't appeal to him to watch disorganized bloodshed…but he stopped when he noticed who was involved.

A guy and a girl. And not just any guy and girl. John, the notorious troublemaker, and the girl that had dissed him earlier…and it had looked like she was holding her own.

Still, he didn't like her odds. This wasn't cool. He'd had to get her out of there before she got hurt and he'd have to kick John's ass once and for all.

She had him pinned against the wall. Good, it was high time John had a piece of humble pie. This was Brad's opportunity to scoop in and nip this before this escalated. If this dude even motioned like he was going to strike her, Brad would peel his face off.

Stepping up to John, Brad was surprised at how calm he was. He'd been expecting more anger.

He'd decided to give John a tongue lashing instead.

After John walked away, Brad turned his attention to the pretty African American girl and helped her with her books.

_Perhaps I should tone it down on the grease ball shtick._

"See, I'm not that bad," he said to her.

"I guess not," she replied.

He was pleased to see a smile replace the scowl she had but a few seconds before. What a nice smile she had. He should try to coax her into doing it more often...

_**It had been a week since the incident with the bully, and since then it had become a tradition for Antoinette to sit with Brad and his two friends at lunchtime. They were cool peoples, and she liked their company. She hoped they liked hers too, because she was beginning to consider these people friends. She approached the table, and dropped her stuff…**_

"Hey, Nette," called the girl who seemed to have a passion for pink. "Why do you always wear black?" Nette raised an eyebrow at her as she continued, "I mean yeah, black is slimming and all, but would it kill you to put a little color in your wardrobe?" she teased with a smile.

Antoinette smiled back, shaking her head. She'd endured that question from the brunette-blond girl every day, and all she could do was laugh. It was the group's running joke, and it was always followed by an offer to go shopping.

"I'd wear yellow, but black doesn't make me wanna hurl," Antoinette replied. Getting comfortable in her seat, she added, chuckling, "And no, I don't wanna go shopping."

"Oh, leave her alone, Liz. I think she looks nice," the sandy-haired boy wearing green came to her defense.

"Why thank you, Pete," Nette accepted, mischievously sticking out her tongue at Liz.

"Nette always looks nice," Brad chimed in. If Antoinette were lighter-skinned, he'd be able to see her blush just then.

"Oh, stop Braddy-boy, you're embarrassing the poor girl," teased Liz. Sometimes Antoinette felt Liz was too perceptive to be healthy.

"That's it, I'm getting lunch," she declared, leaping from her seat and playfully gesturing as if she were to strangle Liz.

Liz spun around and tossed a napkin at her, then lightly shoved Antoinette, saying, "Go. The school food awaits."

Shaking her head, Antoinette approached the lunch line.

En route, she spotted that guy—John, was it?—sitting by himself. She had successfully managed to ignore him for a whole week. Right now would be no different, she decided. Surprisingly, he let her pass in peace.

_**Little did she know that that peace wouldn't last, for at approximately 3:15 that day, the ambulance would come to pick up her crumpled and unconscious body from the foot of the stairs in front of the school...**_

Zen'Aku lati, Tuesday, November 02, 2010


	2. Ch2: The Choosing

_The Destiny Trilogy_

Book One: _The Legend of Chantri-Bova_

_**Author's note:**__** Thanks, Stellar Raven for the excellent beta. He made it all shiny for yall!**_

Chapter 2: _The Choosing_

_**The Near Future…**_

_Utet edac jwo Ijbahdwogo e Oħocrovet sa rižsha…_

"I call upon the essence of the Atmosphere…"

_Tacegab jwo Oihj, Lohj, cagjw ics Haejw, naehivet uc bn cōs e waeg rabojaket sa ubdzagosha…_

"From the East, West, North and South, I implore you to come unto me in my hour of need…"

_Sa woigja bo!..._

"Hear me!"

Her voice almost echoed in the quiet and darkness. The wind blew through her long, coiled hair, tears streamed down her face and her knees felt as solid as gelatin. Falling to them she begged, "Please."

Suddenly she was full of fear and loneliness. Wrapping her arms around herself she raised her face to the dark sky and wept to no one in particular, "I'm not ready to be alone…Not yet…"

"I'm weak," she admitted to herself as she began rocking back and forth. "Help me…"

Is this what the great Chantri-Bova has been reduced to? Crying for help?

Then she felt a hand on her back that she thought she might've imagined, and a voice she hadn't heard in centuries promise, "You are far from weak, my Lady. And you are never alone."

_**Back to the Show!**_

It all happened so fast.

It was after school, and Brad was in a rush to get to football practice. Coach VanGundy had said that if he was late for one more practice, he'd be benched for a week. He called it 'Making an example of the Captain'.

He'd planned to cut through the lobby and go through the parking lot to get to the football field. By then he'd only have about five minutes to get suited up. Sure. _That'll _work.

He pushed at the heavy front door, and when he managed to get it open, who should he see but Antoinette?

Suddenly he wasn't in such a rush…

Brad held the door open for her. "Hi, Nette," he greeted as she walked through the door.

"Thank you, Brad," she replied, smiling at him.

As cliché as it sounded, he hated to see her leave, but he loved watching her walk away. She did have such a nice walk...

Letting the door swing shut, he turned to continue towards the field…but paused when he spotted that pain in the ass, John, nodding towards Antoinette…and then saw his friend shove her from the top of the stairs!

Brad desperately tugged on the door, but it wouldn't give fast enough. She was already falling...

She was at the foot of the stairs by the time he got to her, her leg at an unnatural angle. A small crowd had formed.

Pushing his way through the mass of students, he saw that creep kneeling beside her. Rage boiled up inside him.

"Get away from her!" he barked, pulling him away from the fallen girl. "What's the matter with you? Are you trying to get her killed?"

"What? I-"

"I saw you tell your friend to push her!"

"I didn't!" John protested, but Brad wasn't hearing it. He took his place beside Antoinette's unmoving form.

"You'd better be gone in ten seconds!" Brad snapped, pulling out his cell phone.

Why was Brad even giving him a chance?

"I already called…" John began, but Brad cut him off, seething.

"You'd better leave, or so help me…"

And John did.

_Run, you little punk-bitch_.

__

Never had John ever felt so much like crap. Perhaps it was because no one had ever stood up for themselves so readily. At first, it could've just been interpreted as a girl pushing the limits of how far some punk was willing to go, but when she didn't back down, it became apparent she was willing to take it as far as it _needed_ to go, high heels or no.

He respected that. This girl had officially earned his admiration.

But he had already messed up his chance at getting to know her, and it'd already been a week. A week of no contact whatsoever. Not even a sneer. Not even a bad word. Nothing.

She had successfully turned him to vapor.

Being thought of as the biggest ass on the planet didn't hurt as much as being thought of as nothing at all…

Still, he wouldn't force his presence on her. She'd acknowledge him when she wanted. That was her right.

And then seeing her everyday at lunch having a laugh with those friends she gained so quickly…that stung him. How did she do it? It was such a foreign concept for John that anyone would just…just _like_ someone, without any need for putting on a show. Just being oneself.

Even if he figured out how that worked, there probably wasn't anyone on the planet interested in his self. His front was all he had.

But he had to admit that this bully thing was getting old. No one liked him. No one respected him. Hardly anyone probably even feared him. He was wasting his high school career on something that was losing its luster and was proving to be…well…dumb!

But what to do about it?

As usual there was no rush after school. _Definitely_ no rush to go home. He would just stand in his usual spot in front of the school for the customary 45 minutes or so and people-watch.

And suddenly there she was: Antoinette, looking glamorous as usual.

For some reason, she'd looked over in his direction. Perhaps she felt his stare? John had read somewhere that people could actually feel them. Yeah, he read.

He'd given her a nod, the most neutral gesture he could muster, seeing as how they weren't friends and weren't even on speaking terms—How was he supposed to know that his stupid, overly-loyal "friend" would take that as some kind of signal?

John wasn't talking to him, or looking at him. He didn't even know the guy was there! Yet there it was. John's ass of a friend took it upon himself to rid him of the person outside of family to show him such indifference.

Before John could stop him, she was stumbling...and then falling...and then at the bottom of the stairs.

He'd taken the steps in leaps and bounds, and, without hesitation, whipped out his cell phone to dial 911. The last thing he wanted was for her to be in any real danger. If he had, he wouldn't have left her alone so peacefully for the last week. But when she awoke, would she remember that he tried to help her? Or would she blame him?

He had a feeling it would be the latter. It was always the latter...

He looked around. His idiot friend was nowhere in sight—but big bad Brad the jock was, and in moments he was pushing John away, replacing him at the girl's side.

He could see the fury in Brad's eyes as he threatened him. John wasn't willing to test him. You never knew what a person could be capable of when they cared that much for a person.

Of course, it would never occur to Brad that _John_ was genuinely concerned.

Antoinette must have either been very special or very lucky to warrant such concern from the biggest chauvinist in school.

He'd leave. John knew when the make himself scarce...

__

Antoinette couldn't shake the jumbled feelings of smugness and loneliness that she had gotten from John when she passed him flat at lunch …or the feeling of foreboding when she finally got her tray and sat down.

The others were talking and making jokes as usual, but she was preoccupied.

She couldn't get over how miserable John looked when they made eye contact, and she was starting to feel bad for not trying a little harder to talk to him.

Was she that pigheaded, that she would let an opportunity to get things aired out pass? No, she decided, she wasn't. Yes, he'd been wrong, but maybe he had his reasons.

She made a mental note to take him aside and talk to him the next day.

"Right, Nette?" came Liz suddenly, breaking her thoughts.

"Huh?" said Antoinette, snapping back to the present.

"Just say 'yes', Nette," said Pete.

Without thinking, Antoinette answered 'yes' and the group enjoyed a laugh at her expense.

She would've asked what heinous thing she just agreed to, but she changed her mind and once again slipped into her own thoughts.

"What are you thinking about, sweetie?" came Liz, always the perceptive one.

"Nothin'," lied Antoinette, shaking her head. She won't dwell on those thoughts right now. They would bring down her whole day.

Then finally the end of the day came.

Antoinette was always shocked at how quickly the school emptied when the last bell rang. She was never in that much of a rush; the school building didn't repulse her that much. Besides, she'd needed to argue something with one of her teachers, and that always took a while.

But feeling victorious after her debate with the teacher, she was ready to leave. Heading to one of the front doors of the building, she had spotted Brad looking hard pressed for time. Holding the door for her, she'd smiled and thanked him.

Where had that chauvinistic grease ball that she met the first day of school disappeared off to? She almost dared to think that he was becoming something of a gentleman!

Shaking her head at the goofy smile Brad was giving her, Antoinette had glanced up to see John looking at her. He'd given her one of those I-acknowledge-your-presence-but-I'm-not-that-interested-_really_ upwards nods. _Riiiiight…_

Did he really think she was being fooled?

For a split second, she'd considered saying hello to him. But she hadn't had much time to develop that thought, because in the next moment she was stumbling from the top of the stairs, and her thoughts were abruptly focused on more urgent matters: someone had pushed her and now she was falling!

Her body had kept switching positions as she fell, and it felt like each hard concrete step had made a point of striking somewhere different. She finally came to rest, the bottom stair delivering a final kick to her skull.

Through the slits of her eyelids, she'd been able to make out one blurry blue-clad figure kneeling next to her, but she wasn't certain who it belonged to. Her head was swimming, and she couldn't think straight.

_John?_

Then all went black…

__

Antoinette came to in the hospital. She had no idea how long she had been out, but her neck was in a brace, her pinky was splinted and her left leg was in a cast. The pain that suffused her body had subsided to a dull roar, but only because the doctors had her hooked up to some really good drugs.

Antoinette spent two weeks in the hospital, and when she wasn't receiving visit from friends and family, she was stewing in her own juices. Somebody actually _pushed_ her! It was no accident! But why? Then her mind raced back to the nod John had given her just before it happened, and it started making sense to her.

_That evil bastard! And to think I almost felt sorry for his crazy ass!_

She couldn't wait to get out of the hospital. Oh yes, she and he would have a little chat.

On the Tuesday, the day after her release, she really wasn't obligated to go to school, but she went anyway. She was on a mission.

She waited until the starting of sixth period (her lunch period) and got a visitors pass from the security guard to be let into the building.

Since the bell had just rung, the hall was full of students, but she spotted John by his trademark blue denim jacket.

_There goes that psycho bastard!_

Nette made a beeline for him. She wasn't exactly certain what she was going to do or say when she actually reached him, but seeing him face-to-face only amplified her resolve. Her hand shot up to connect with his unsuspecting face.

_You sick bastard! _"What if I had broken my blinkin' neck?" _How COULD you!_

She reared up for another one, but he caught her arm. She wrenched it from his grasp, not being able to stand being touched by the creep.

He backed up. She hoped to God that he could feel her glares, for that was all she was willing to let herself do. What she _really_ wanted was to launch at him and tear his face off, and she was fighting that urge with all her might.

What he said next surprised her. It had cut straight through her anger, doused her rage as efficiently as a bucket of ice water.

She watched him carefully as he spoke, alert for the slightest sign of insincerity…and found none. This was the poise of guy that had finally had enough. She believed every word…and suddenly she felt awful.

Perhaps she should try to work on her mood swings; it was hard to be diplomatic when you were fighting with yourself to be civil.

He started to walk away.

_Oh no you don't! _

She reclaimed her original resolve and reached out to him, grabbing him by the back of his shirt. When he turned around she gave him one final appraisal, hoping to God that she wasn't making a mistake in giving this dude one last chance.

She couldn't let it end this way…She had to make this right.

"Let's talk."

She turned and stormed through the halls, dragging him along behind her. She needed to snag this opportunity before it passed—but he didn't protest, which surprised her.

Because she had chosen a very public place to confront him, she chose a private one to talk. The best place that come to mind was the library…she could usually count on to be empty at any time of the day.

She dragged him past the librarian and into the atlas-and-dictionary section. They took a seat, the smell of old books bombarding their nostrils.

They sat looking at each other at opposite ends of the table before she finally spoke.

"So, You say that you _didn't_ have your friend push me?" she asked.

"That's right," John replied.

"And you were the one that called 911 for me?"

"Yup."

"Look," said Antoinette, reaching out to him. "Thank you. And I'm sorry for hitting you. Okay…" She took a deep breath and just let it all out.

"Can you really blame me for getting mad? Your idea of an introduction was trying to trip me, and then trying to fight me. That doesn't exactly scream 'gentleman material' to me. How could I **not** connect you with my fall? Now, I'm not one to shy away from a confrontation of any kind. I've been through with hiding and letting myself get walked all over since junior high school. I had my fill of bullies. I'm over that bullshit. But, at the same time, I'm not interested in getting in unnecessary fights, not when I could just as easily work it out with the person. And that's what I'm tryna do right now. So answer me this: if you're not such a bad guy how come you stroll around like you're supposed to be some kind of bad-ass? How do you expect anyone to look past you're attitude when you act that way?" she finished, taking a breath.

He sighed, and responded with his own verbal diarrhea. "My front is all I have. It's the only thing I have control of. If I lose it...then what do I have? Believe me, I don't wanna be like this. This sucks! This being an asshole thing is not who I really am, but who would care to find out?" After a pause he added, "I think you're the first person to ever take me aside and try to talk to me."

She began to feel for him. His honesty spoke to her. Her suspicions of him having his reasons were correct. Now she just had to get him comfortable enough to divulge more.

There was a long paused while she worked out what to say, during which he sat quietly, waiting for her response.

"We loners have to stick together!" Antoinette said finally.

"Then we wouldn't be loners," John answered with a smirk.

"Precisely," she concluded, smiling at him mischievously.

_**One week later...**_

The four teens sat together in the bleachers, eyes on the football game below. The five of them had finally gotten their differences worked out. Now they were there, together, to cheer on their football hero friend.

Yes…this was the way life should be. Antoinette smiled. When she'd started the school year, she'd never imagined that a loner-girl-by-choice like her could find such good friends…friends who where more different from one another than any group of friends had any right to be.

But that was the way she liked it. And she liked it a lot.

It was a beautiful Fall evening, the air was brisk and the atmosphere was alive with the shouts of the student body.

The cheers only grew louder as Brad dodged another player and dashed, scoring the winning touchdown. The crowd was in an uproar of joy. She, John, Liz and Pete leapt out of their seats, screaming along with everyone else.

It was so good to see John smile for once…if only it had lasted…

Explosions rang out from three directions, seemingly coming from nowhere, shattering the blissful mood. The screams of elation turned into screams of panic.

There was utter chaos as the students stampeded for any available exits. Antoinette couldn't see over the crowds, couldn't see what was happening on the field. Where was Brad?

The hordes of frightened students thinned as the bleachers cleared, and the field became more visible. In the middle stood twelve angry looking guys whose intense aggression seemed to be directed at the lone figure they had encircled.

Nothing made Antoinette angrier than to see a person being set upon and outnumbered. Without realizing it, she was making her way to the field, not knowing exactly what she planned to do once she got there. To her surprise she saw Liz, Pete and John by her side.

As they got closer to the field, they recognized their friend also rushing to the aid of the lone figure being assaulted…and they also realized that the men attacking him weren't men at all. They were faceless, humanoid creatures, with vine-like coils coming from their scalps, the color of dirty snow and ash.

It hadn't occurred to Antoinette to be afraid, but she definitely was now.

__

John would've never imagined that he would be sitting here, at this social event with these people…his friends…sitting next to _her_... It was amazing.

And it almost hadn't happened.

John stole a glance at Antoinette—no, "Nette", they were friends now.

That fact still felt unreal to him. He had friends now. Friends who actually gave a damn about him. And up until a month ago, he didn't even realize he was capable of giving a damn about anybody else…

_Yet there he'd been, kneeling by Nette's side, and he had __cared!__ More than cared, he'd been genuinely concerned! He couldn't help but feel a bit responsible for why she was at the bottom of the stairs, and for the first time, he'd been willing to take responsibility. Even if nobody believed it of him._

_Like that tree in the forest…with no one there to see it, could anyone testify that it fell?_

_He found it surprisingly hard to leave her side, even when he was forced to. But he hadn't felt like playing the jackass bully, challenging this guy who had more rights to her than he himself could ever hope to._

_So he ran…but not far._

_He ran as far as the corner, no farther, and watched the paramedic van speed off. It would probably be his only chance to see her for a while…he seriously doubted he'd be welcome to visit her in the hospital._

_On his long walk home, he began to reassess his friendships. It didn't take him long to come to a conclusion: that he didn't care for the people he called 'friends'. Nor did they really care about him; never could he approach them if he ever really needed anything. The thought of doing so had never even occurred to him._

_On the Monday when he went back to school, he had been so preoccupied by thoughts of Antoinette in the hospital and his newfound need to talk to someone, that he hadn't noticed the whispers around school concerning his involvement in the accident. Everything came full-circle at lunchtime, though, when he approached the table he and the other two usually sat at._

_Spotting the one that pushed her, John glared, gritting his teeth. When he reached the table and dropped his stuff, up stood the ass-of-a-friend, smiling like an idiot. John hadn't realized until that very moment just how much that smile got on his nerves. How much they __**both**__ got on his nerves._

"_No need to thank me," the fool began, putting a hand on John's shoulder, congratulating himself._

"_Get your hands off me," John spat through gritted teeth as he swatted his 'friend's' arm off his shoulder. "Thank you for what?"_

_John couldn't believe how smug this guy was being. He had the urge to rip the smile right off his face._

"_For what, he says!" said the smug jerk, gesturing to the third friend, and putting the hand back on John's shoulder. "Don't try to weasel your way outta owing me. For handling that black bitch, that's what!" shaking his head as if it were the most obvious thing ever conceived._

_What!__ John had heard enough. "You mother f-" and without thinking, John decked the smug idiot right in the mouth and tackled him to the ground. "You take that back, you asshole!" growled John, rearing his fist for another one._

"_What the hell is your problem, man!" protested his 'friend' from the floor. "You know you hated her as much as I did! I was doing you a favor!" the guy protested as he squirmed, trying to fight his way out from under the livid John._

_Securely pinning him, John seethed, "A __favor__!__" _

_He grabbed a handful of the boy's hair on either side of his head and slammed his head into the floor, then continued, "I don't call pushing someone down some stairs a __**favor! **__I didn't need a __**favor! **__I__ didn't have a problem with her!" _

_John successfully got in two more good punches before someone pulled him off._

_Not caring who it was, not even looking back, John launched at that jack-ass again, and once again he was grabbed, held back, kept from his goal. He wanted to kill that jerk-off. He didn't care that the guy was already bleeding from the nose. But who the hell was this, tackling him?_

_When John decided to look up, he saw…Brad? And John's anger momentarily dissipated to shame. "Hey, what gives?" John asked, attempting to reclaim his vehemence._

"_I could ask you the same thing," Brad sneered, with obvious disdain. "What the hell are you tryna pull?"_

_What? For the first time in his life, John was standing up for the right thing and STILL people were looking down on him, accusing him? He wrenched free from the jock's grasp._

"_Stop walking around like the world owes you an explanation," John snapped. "I don't need to prove a damn thing to you! I don't need to prove to you that I didn't tell this dumb-ass to push her and that I'm just as worried as you are! And if you think for a hot second that I would want her to end up at the bottom of the stairs, then you're friggin' sick outta your head!"_

_John turned to leave, when Brad added, "Like I'm supposed to believe that you care!"_

_Not bothering to turn around he replied, "You know what? You don't gotta believe anything you don't wanna."_

_John decided that he'd pretty-much had enough of everyone. That day he ducked out of school early._

_Every day for two weeks, he considered visiting her in the hospital, but he never did, never able to work up the nerve. Finally, the time came for Antoinette's release from the hospital—the day he was hoping for and dreading at the same time. And when he finally saw her, even though he was glad to see her, it was not a good meeting…_

_She spotted him and went straight for him. Despite himself, he smiled when he saw her, but that smile was promptly—and literally—smacked off him._

"_That__ was for telling your friend to push me down the stairs!" she barked._

_Her accusation smarted more than the handprint that was burning his left cheek. He had beat himself up enough over the past two weeks, and he had grown tired of being treated like some loathsome creature incapable of anything but trouble._

"_What the hell is wrong with you? What if I had broken my blinkin' neck? Do you hate me __that__ much!" she accused, rearing her arm up for another one, but he caught her arm and stared down at her._

"_Excuse the hell outta me! I was actually __worried__ about you!"_

_Snatching back her arm, she recoiled, "Oh, yeah? If you cared so damn much, how come you didn't come to check on me at the hospital?"_

_Good question. _

_Gingerly touching his face he shot back, "I cared enough to call the damn ambulance!" Seeing the surprise on her face, he added, "Yeah, that was me! And I did __**not**__ tell my friend to push you! Damn, woman! Do you really think I'm that heartless?"_

_He took a step back and calmed himself down. After a deep breath he said, "You know what? I don't need this. I'm glad you're okay. You don't gotta believe that, that's your personal right. But don't come in my face and tell me I'm a heartless prick, 'cause you know jack squat about me. Excuse me for caring. I won't make __that__ mistake again." Shaking his head, he turned to leave._

_He only managed to take two steps before he felt a hand pull at the back of his shirt, accompanied by a more composed voice, "Wait a second," she said._

_He turned around to face her. She surveyed him, and then hooking her arm in his she said, "Let's talk," and he let her lead him to the library._

_There, they'd had a long chat in which he found himself confiding in her about his home life, how he became a bully—or more accurately, the student body's biggest pain in the ass—the altercation between he and his former friends and finally his concern for her safety for the past two weeks._

_Since then he'd made it a point to seek her out, seeing as now she was his only friend, and frankly, he didn't feel like her other friends—namely Brad—would take too keenly to having him around. But it was more than that; he was looking for reasons to talk alone with her. He genuinely did enjoy her company._

_But he wouldn't have her all to himself for long; Antoinette, being the diplomat that she was, made it a point to bring him into the group, and they were cool peoples, but he still wasn't sure that they wanted his company. _

_He personally didn't want to force his presence on them. But he soon came to realize that she was doing it __for__ him—and it was working; they were warming up to him._

_He learned firsthand that when she put her mind to something, she was sticking to it till the bitter end._

_He also found out that he had quite a bit in common with all of them—Brad was the last to come around, naturally. _

_He found that he could talk to Pete about anything Sci-Fi, that Liz was almost as much of a music nut as he was, that Brad loved martial arts (and was good at it, too), and that Antoinette loved to write. He was able to divulge finally that he played the guitar._

_Where had these people been all his life?_

_It became easier to approach them, even without Antoinette around. He'd even gotten so comfortable with Antoinette that he started calling her by her group-established pet name: Nette. And the rest of the group started making fun of him because they thought he had a crush on her. Well…_

_He wasn't too certain that Brad cared too much for the thought, even if it had only been a joke._

_But now he could hang out with them, thanks to Nette's diligence. He was right to think that she was a hell of a girl…_

_When Liz came up to him and asked if he was going to the game, he was a bit taken aback. He hadn't even thought about it, but…why shouldn't he go? And when they got to their seats in the bleachers Pete and Liz sat on Antoinette's left and he sat on her right, which would play into Pete and Liz' teasing, because secretly he still wanted all her attention._

But they were there cheer for Brad…

Though he wondered, while occasionally looking at her thoroughly enjoying the game, if her enjoyment was due to the possibility that she may have feelings for their red-clad hero…

But aside from those nagging thoughts, he did enjoy the game, and cheered as sincerely as anyone when they won.

But then the cheers turned to screams, and he looked out at the field to see some guy being surrounded by a dozen angry-looking brutes…and Brad, still on the field, being drawn into the mix.

John saw something in Nette's eyes that let him know it was that time again. She was going to move. And whatever she decided, he'd be right there with her.

In an instant, they were making their way from their nosebleed seats to the field to help even the odds.

__

Helaprosti was one of the best and brightest of his class, reared into the deep traditions of the Jenom Clan, and they had great expectations for him. There should have been no doubt that he would be destined for greatness. Yet here he was, among these common people, seeking out the Chosen Five to beg them to accept the Knowledge.

Where had he fallen so far off course?

Sitting among the screaming masses, he somehow found the ability to think, and came up with an answer…

"It is because I am a fool," Helaprosti resolved, letting go of his own pride for once.

Helaprosti moved onto the Academy, where he excelled in every challenge. He was the Jenom Clan's pride and final hope—and he knew it.

But he had gotten sloppy and countless people, including a dear friend, paid for Helaprosti's carelessness with their lives. It would seem that he was _still_ trying to live up to his potential. Shutting his eyes tightly in hopes of squeezing out the harsh memory, Helaprosti said a solemn prayer for forgiveness…

_Maxedes, please forgive me for my folly. Please know I never wished you harm. By the Gods, I wish you had lived…"_

Loud cheers broke him out if his revelry. From what he gathered, the game was over because he could see someone being hoisted onto the shoulders of his teammates, all cheering in victory. Good. It was time to get this groveling session over-with.

Just as he was about to stand, he felt an old, familiar sensation, like frost creeping up from the tips of his long, black locks and settling at his scalp. That sensation never meant anything good. Sure enough, onto the false turf of the field, developing from pools of quicksand came the soot-colored, vines-for-dreadlocks, faceless foot soldiers that reeked of dark magic.

_Haezoh. Splendid._

Teleporting in a streak of bright white light, he rematerialized on the field thinking, _I can handle these fools, _for at the time only three had appeared. But when more kept coming he began to worry. _Gil-Matri must be serious about this team not assembling._

The Haezoh stopped appearing after twelve, the final three apparently feeling the need to make a grand entrance by using those exploding seeds they liked to toss around. They enclosed him.

_I'm good but not __**that**__ good, _thought Helaprosti, getting into the ready stance of a long-dead martial art.

Helaprosti raised an eyebrow as the Haezoh's movements shifted, taking into account the presence of an oddly-armored fellow also on the field. Strange…Haezoh were notoriously single-minded…they should have completely ignored any bystanders…unless…but no, there was only one…

Within moments, the oddly-armored fellow was joined by four more if his peers, making for a total of five.

_Well, _thought Helaprosti. _It seems like I don't have to seek out the chosen ones after all._

_Zen'Aku Lati, Tuesday, November 02, 2010_


	3. Ch3: Haezoh Battle of the First Kind

_The Destiny Trilogy _

Book One: _The Legend of Chantri-Bova_

Chapter 3: _Haezoh Battle of the First Kind_

_**The Near Future...**_

"Shit! I've been hit!" Brad shouted into the intercom as he struggled to regain control of his Mechani-Suit that was spiraling down to earth.

"Brad, eject!" Pete pleaded, but it was way too late for that. The mercenary air fighters were intent on shooting him down.

The ground was getting closer at an alarming speed, and the last thing Brad thought before crashing was, "Shit…"

_**Back to the Show**_

_**Friday, September 26**__**th**__**, early evening...**_

_These may be the chosen ones, but how can they be ready?_ thought Helaprosti, sizing up the situation. He may have looked as though he might have been their age, but he was far older and wiser than he appeared, and he knew of the Five's chances if they continued to stay in the state they were currently in. Right now, the Haezoh were rearing up for their strike. _We cannot take them all!_ he assessed.

"We must move! Quickly, grab onto one another," he commanded the five youths as they wondered who this person thought he was to give them orders, or what he thought grabbing onto each other would achieve.

They looked at each other with a shrug and did what they were told. Helaprosti grabbed onto the nearest person—the female dressed in black—and in an instant they were spirited away in a beam of white light.

When they rematerialized, they were in an abandoned garage near the junkyard at the edge of town. And did the questions flow:

_Who are you?_

_Where are we? _

_What did you do to us? _

_What are these things?_

_Why were they after you?_

Raising a hand to stop the onslaught of questions, he took a deep breath and began, "I am Helaprosti Rodú. I teleported you to this place. Those 'things' are the Haezoh, gil-Matri's army of soulless warriors, and they were not after me, they were after _us_." Helaprosti then took the opportunity to survey the five. He always did find it amusing to see how people of this world reacted to the supernatural.

"Us?" came the black-clad female.

"Yes," he continued. "gil-Matri knew I was coming to retrieve you, the Chosen Five, so he sent his warriors to stop me."

"Hold up. You really expect us to believe all this?" came Brad, who had been pacing back and forth.

"Do you doubt what you've just seen?" Helaprosti challenged, slowly losing his patience.

After a pause the boy decided to trust his gut. Brad asked, "Well, who is this gil-Joker?"

"That is the man that makes plans for all our deaths," Helaprosti replied. There was a silence as the words still hung in the air. This reaction was expected, considering the situation.

"I know this is much to take in, but you must believe me when I say that you _are_ the Chosen Five. And be assured, they _are_ after you, and if we do not move quickly, they will surely kill us. You may not choose to accept that which I am about to give you, but if you wish to survive, you must at least **take** it."

Urgency dripped from his words but he also realized that he was asking for so much so soon.

Helaprosti then softened his tone. "I assure you, this was not the approach I imagined, but circumstances have changed. Now please, they approach."

"What do we have to do?" said the black-clad girl, Antoinette, stepping towards Helaprosti, along with the oddly armored boy, Brad and the blue-clad boy, John, looking as determined as she was. None of them were too keen on the idea of accepting whatever they were going to be given, but if it meant that they would stand a fighting chance against these things, these _Haezoh_, then John, Brad and Antoinette would take it. Helaprosti smiled. _Indeed, _he thought. Liz and Pete stayed behind, casting disbelieving glances at the three.

"Simply close your eyes and concentrate on my voice," Helaprosti instructed, preparing his mind and body for the power transfer. The three did what they were told. Impatiently he caste a glance towards the remaining two and with hesitation they too complied. Putting himself in the trance, he began to speak in the unfamiliar tongue.

_Utet cal naeg guvwjacetez daloghi naehivet vukoshaket, qn jwo Icruocjhitet naehivet vgicjacechiraket, qn jwo Ecukoghotet jwobvet vgicjacechira. _"I give you now your rightful powers, granted to you by the Infinites, granted to them by the Universe."

He repeated these words a few more times, and once he had, the five teenagers ceased to feel the way the felt just mere moments ago. Their breath caught with the shock of the power initially entering them. It was being absorbed by their skin, causing them to shiver involuntarily, as if someone with cold skin had embraced them. Then a feeling not too much unlike pride, or perhaps confidence, came over them as their bodies recognized forgotten skills, and began sliding back into familiar habits.

Finally, the process reached their minds, and they remembered…For Antoinette, this last phase brought on memories as vivid as anything she could experience—yet they weren't hers.

Each of the five now knew their abilities.

"Who are the Ancients?" asked Antoinette once the processes was over, wondering how it is she understood those strange words.

At first Helaprosti was surprised, but he realized who was speaking and the surprise passed. _You mustn't know so much so soon. Nor is this the place… _

But smiling, Helaprosti answered, "Indeed. They are the Gods of my people. The very Gods that sent me to find you and give you the knowledge you now possess. I am unable to give you full access to you power; I am not that powerful, I'm afraid, nor is this the correct venue. What I _have_ done is given you the knowledge to retrieve the dormant powers within."

His tone suddenly turned rigid, "They come."

It was getting darker and colder by the minute...and then everything was still, as if life had suddenly been put on pause. Then, as if everything was in slow motion they appeared. Those faceless, soot-colored things coolly passed through the wide open entrance, looking fully intent on taking them all out.

But the six were ready. Scared witless, but ready.

"Okay, guys, this is it," Brad reported nervously, breathing heavily, clouds of breath coming from his mouthpiece.

The six were poised for action. And action they did get. Without hesitation the twelve Haezoh were scaling the walls, sounding like a million cockroach legs scratching against the surface.

_**Despite their new knowledge of their abilities, none of the six people on the ground could fly. The ball was in the Haezoh's court and they made the first moves. They all attacked at once, selecting a target as if they had predetermined who they would fight.**_

In her peripheral vision Antoinette spotted movement from one of those things. She looked up to acknowledge a sinister-looking vine with spikes adorning it aimed straight for her throat. She envisioned the thorny vine encircling her delicate neck, piercing her windpipe, and those very essential veins. She imagined the metallic taste of her own blood developing in her mouth—and in that moment she realized she did not want that to come to pass.

She found it odd how quickly her mind was working, because in one millisecond she was in dread of the vine, and in the next she was reacting. But her new reflexes weren't enough, for even though she successfully managed to back-flip out of the way of its _first _attack, she landed in time to catch his _second _attack at her midsection.

At that moment Antoinette went through a wash of emotions. First was surprise, immediately followed by outstanding pain, topped off with panic. The vine latched itself to her, squeezing in tighter and tighter, the thorns tearing through her clothes and into her flesh.

Gathering to herself a will that amazed her, Antoinette overlooked the pain, banished the panic and concentrated on the task at hand. She gripped the vines with both hands, allowing the thorns to hurt her for the last time, and placed her full concentration on her hands. She would summon the power of ice.

She felt the chill of electrified liquid-ice course through her veins, traveling steadily down her arms and towards her palms, which slightly caught her breath. Under her grasp she froze the vines, watching the ice travel up it like a brushfire. The ice, for some reason, stopped at the creature's hands. Perhaps she needed to work on her powers of concentration. Or perhaps the faceless monsters had ways of countering such attacks. In effect, the vines that had been wrapped around her waist also froze.

Without another thought she slammed her fists through the ice and broke free from the Haezoh's hands, then banished the power of ice. Antoinette whipped around just in time to catch a front kick to her midsection from another one that had come down from off of the ceiling. The force of the kick sent her reeling back a few steps, but it also released her from the frozen vines that were still there.

_Thank you,_ Antoinette sighed to herself. But there wasn't any real time to breathe, because without hesitation, the Haezoh launched blow after blow with inhuman speed. She at first found it difficult to keep up, but after focusing her mind, she began moving as quickly as she could think, and soon was matched move for move with the faceless thing, deflecting his blows and gaining enough of an upper hand to deliver some blows of her own.

_Danger!_ her thoughts screamed to her, and her body reacted before she was even certain what the danger was, because in that instant one of those coiled vines that extended from its head launched at Antoinette's face—or rather where her face should've been. She tumbled out of the way and got her footing in time to see that she was neatly between the Haezoh that she was fighting and the first one that attacked her; both of them were now on the ground with her. Then moving quickly, they sandwiched her between them and clutched their arms around her.

Suddenly their bodies dissolved into an olive green sludge-like version of quicksand that was beginning to absorb her, encasing her entire body in about five inches of it. The thick liquid allowed no air in or out. Antoinette struggled to concentrate over her panic and lack of air. Unable to stand, she fell on all fours.

_Think, dammit! Think!_ she pleaded with herself…then she acted.

She forced her skin to become bark-like and absorbed the moisture from the quicksand, then broke out of the dry sand and gasped for air. She then willed her skin back to normal. But without warning, and before she could fully catch her breath, her stomach twisted violently, and out of her mouth came all the sludge she had absorbed.

_Note to self: Don't ever let that happen again,_ she reprimanded herself.

Two down, ten to go…

The faceless things had by now come down from their perches at assorted locations on the ceiling and walls. For the sake of comfort and the fact that it his view was obstructed, Brad took off his football helmet. He shook his head to wrap his brain around what was happening.

So much was going on around him. In every direction he looked in, there were fists and feet flying. But in spite of the chaos, he was aware of every last bit of machinery in the place. His mind started formulating plans on how to use them…

Looking up again, he spotted Antoinette on the other side of the dimly lit first level of the garage, covered in sand as well as kneeling in it, looking at her own vomit. _Jesus!_ he thought.

"Nette!" he bellowed and just as he was making his way to her side, his path was blocked by two of those Haezoh.

"Get the hell out of my face…" he began as he willed a nail gun to come into his awaiting open right hand. In his grip the power tool that wasn't plugged in, and shouldn't have worked under any circumstance, powered up, and he pulled the trigger, thankful there were still nails in it.

He fired twice to the head of one of the Haezoh who launched at him. With two holes in the forehead that were oozing a burgundy sludge like already coagulated blood, the Haezoh fell backwards. The other Haezoh watched his fallen compatriot for a split second before he himself launched into action. But Brad had no intention of giving it a chance.

Brad whipped out his right leg to connect his hook kick with the side of the thing's head, immediately followed by a spinning heal kick that connected with its jaw, causing the Haezoh's head to snap backwards at a sickening angle. The thing fell on its side, revealing its temple.

Standing over it, Brad fired four nails into its awaiting skull with an uncharacteristic viciousness that would bother him…later. "…You ugly sons of bitches!" he finished before stepping over the still body to attend to Antoinette, who was attempting to stand.

"Look out!" Antoinette gasped as Brad spun around just in time to have the nail gun taken from him by the vine whip from, to his surprise, the Haezoh he shot twice in the forehead, who was now very much "alive" and on the ceiling.

_What the…?_ thought Brad, but before he could finish the thought, the second one that he shot in the temple was launching at him. At the last moment, Brad grabbed the leather in the front of the thing's uniform and used its own momentum to pull the thing down with him to the ground, and then kicked the Haezoh over his head. Antoinette had the good sense to move out of the way.

Rolling up off his back, Brad came face to face with the Haezoh that was formerly on the ceiling. And without hesitation, that Haezoh forward kicked at Brad's midsection, propelling him backwards, into the awaiting arms of the Haezoh behind him. That Haezoh had Brad's arms locked behind him and the one that kicked him was now approaching him, brandishing a jagged knife fashioned from a sharpened metallic plant's leaf.

When the thing was close enough, Brad kicked the weapon out of its hand, then front kicked it in the stomach with his other leg. Then, wasting no time, Brad stepped on the foot of the one holding him and head butted the thing with the back of his head at the same time. When that Haezoh's grip loosened, Brad took that opportunity to throw the thing over his shoulder. Now both Haezoh were in front of him, still 'bleeding' from their wounds.

The one that Brad just threw over his shoulder quickly sprung back into action, brandishing its own knife. Launching at him, it slashed at Brad's midsection, but Brad leapt back, the knife only nicking his football jersey. The Haezoh immediately followed that with a left uppercut and a right cross, both of which connected. Brad used that momentum to deliver a spinning heal kick with his right leg, followed by a roundhouse to its temple, using his left leg. Both of which connected. The Haezoh landed hard on the ground.

Brad took that opportunity to catch his breath. _Man, these creeps don't quit!_

Brad may not have had an idea what was going to happen next…but Antoinette did. Time began to slow as she witnessed one of the Haezoh stand up and launch the same kind of thorny vine out of its left hand towards Brad's neck, and watched in horror as it successfully hit its mark. The thing raised its right fist and from on top of it came a flat, jagged triangular leaf dagger.

She hadn't a moment to lose. She spotted an axe and grabbed it just as the Haezoh began reeling Brad in, and was beside it with the axe held high when the bridge of Brad's nose was mere inches away from the dagger's tip. She brought her axe down hard on the thing's left arm, successfully chopping it off, then followed through with a slash to its side, and finished with the final blow of the axe coming down on the top of the Haezoh's head.

The Haezoh became very still. Antoinette slowly removed her hands from the axe which was now comfortably lodged a good four inches in its head. The thing fell to the right—and Brad came tumbling after.

She caught him, touched his neck, then willed heat to her hands and felt the vines that were around Brad's neck spring to life, as if in pain, and then fell away.

Antoinette rested Brad's head in her lap. His eyes had rolled inward and little droplets of blood escaped from his parted lips.

"Oh God…" she whimpered, observing the gashes those poisonous vines left behind around his neck.

She completely forgot about the other Haezoh…

Antoinette's guard was way down, for all her attention was on the unconscious boy she could do nothing for. She didn't see when the Haezoh raised its two hands above its head and formed a forest green ball of energy which grew in size. She didn't see when the thing stretched it into an arc over its head as the Haezoh brought its hands down to its sides. And she didn't see when the arc of forest green energy split in two forming a sword of glowing energy in each hand.

All Antoinette saw was the Haezoh being hacked to pieces by a great sword of fire, and when the pieces fell she saw that the wielder was none other than the, raven-haired boy who introduced them to all this madness: Helaprosti.

Just then, Antoinette went from surprise and fear, to gratitude and exhaustion. She looked up at Helaprosti and smiled weakly. Her eyes fluttered and then all went black.

Four down, eight to go…

_**Meanwhile, at the Arctic Palace…**_

Even if there was an inkling if doubt in his mind, he couldn't deny what his soul was telling him. The void within him, that had been embossed there for 200 years, desperately yearned for the one person that could fill it. And now that she was so close, he felt that void would drive him insane…more than he already was, anyway.

He sat on his throne (or rather his father's throne) in the palace he grew up in. The (transplanted) palace that had been allowed to fall to decay after 2 centuries of abandon and raids.

Now she was within his grasp.

He needed to save her from those that would lie to her. Those who would tell her that they were her friends. He needed to rescue her before more harm comes her way...because Ptep had all intentions or doing away with all those that brought him sorrow...

Now was the time…

_**Back to the Fight…**_

Helaprosti was pleased to find that summoning his Sword of Fire didn't pose much resistance to his body, which was still not quite 100 percent. He had successfully disembodied the Haezoh that had intentions to overcome the fallen pair. But they were not yet out of danger, for they had been poisoned and would continue to deteriorate if he didn't intervene. Still, he couldn't leave the scene with the odds the way they were.

Helaprosti didn't have to wait long before those things advanced his way. The last thing he needed was for the fallen pair to have something happen to them in their vulnerable state. But he couldn't teleport them just yet because his attention had to fall completely on the two Haezoh blazing their swords of Green Energy. For now he'd settle for luring them outside where he had greater advantage.

This was easier suggested than done, though, because Haezoh weren't stupid, and they were highly capable of mortal danger. The young warrior theorized that the Haezoh would split up, one keeping him busy while the other attempting to do away with Brad and kidnap Antoinette. No matter how he sliced it, Brad and Antoinette were in danger.

_I hate to admit it, but I need help, _thought Helaprosti, readying himself for the clash he knew was to come, Blazing sword held at ready…

A string of thought rang through Liz's mind as urgent as any vocalized plea, yet she knew this thought was not hers. _…I need help._ Surveying the chaos around her, she assessed that her presence was needed more with the new guy.

As concerned as she was about Brad and Nette's state, her mind was surprisingly clear and focused. She strode over with purpose, approaching the lightshow that was the battle. It was like walking into a fire…

"What do you need me to do?" came Liz's clear voice as she stayed clear of stray blows.

"Protect them while I dispose of these creatures!" came Helaprosti's reply, without turning his attention away from his battle.

Liz knew that she couldn't stay in this area for long, because soon she would be needed again with Pete and John. Taking a deep breath, she blocked out the carnage happening around her and concentrated on the force field she was hoping to conjure. Slowly the area around her two fallen friends began to warp and formed a force field not unlike a bubble around them. The liquid of the force field ebbed.

Stealing a quick glance in John and Pete's direction, she knew it was time to return to their side. "I'm sure you can take it from here?" Liz enquired, wanting to make absolutely sure before running off.

"Yes. Thank you!" bellowed Helaprosti, between strikes and blocks.

That was Liz's cue.

By now Helaprosti realized that he needed more than just his single Sword, as powerful as it was—so he duplicated it. He always did love that feature!

As expected, one of the Haezoh made a move for the fallen pair, but he was confident in the force field. The creatures now had his undivided attention.

He was shocked at how well the Haezoh worked together. This little row was one of the best workouts he'd gotten in two centuries, and even though his mind was keeping up, his body still was not ready for this kind of exertion.

The encounter had been furious and relentless—but then the Haezoh suddenly stopped their attack! The Haezoh then did something Helaprosti hadn't expected: they began to merge! Turning themselves into that olive green sludge they so seem to favor, they came together, becoming a bigger, badder Haezoh.

_How long have they been able to do that?_ Helaprosti reeled as the combined Haezoh came at him with its Swords of Green Energy, which had also doubled in size. _This is not good…_ He needed to get this giant thing away from Antoinette and Brad _now!_

_Gods, give me strength, _Helaprosti prayed as the Haezoh Supreme came at him, arms crossed, and when it was close enough it quickly uncrossed its arms from in front of it, backhand slashing with both hands in an attempt to cleave Helaprosti in half through the midsection.

In the nick of time, Helaprosti jumped out of the way and onto the Supreme's shoulders. Clamping on tightly to the its neck with his feet, Helaprosti let himself fall forward allowing him to roll on his back, throwing the Supreme that much closer to the exit.

They both rebounded quickly and Helaprosti jumped right back into action. He ran past the Supreme as if he were making for the exit, and the moment he past the Supreme's left side, he spun around and slashed it in the side with the sword in his right hand, and then immediately jabbed the sword in his right hand forward, to plunge it into the Supreme's back, which was still facing him. But the Haezoh Supreme spun around to its right, parrying the attack with one of its own swords.

The two had only been facing each other for a millisecond before the Supreme lashed out with its left sword at Helaprosti's head. The youth tilted his head backwards to allow the sword to pass over. The Haezoh Supreme took that opportunity to knock Helaprosti's extended sword out of his hand and sent it skidding further back into the garage…back towards the force field containing Brad and Antoinette.

For the young warrior to retrieve that sword would be like taking one step forward and two steps back, not to mention bringing the fallen pair back into the line of danger. But _without_ it, he may very well lose this battle, and he couldn't help them if he were dead.

_Don't give up on me just yet, _he pleaded to the fallen pair.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he caught movement from the Supreme's vines-for-dreads, pointing at him like a scorpion's tail. He knew that could only mean one thing: acid spray.

Moving quickly and keeping his head low, Helaprosti delivered a hook kick to the back of the Supreme's head using his right leg, then followed through with another, lower hook kick to the its midsection with his left leg, causing the Supreme to double over it.

The creature took this opening and held onto the young man's leg, dropping his swords, and then swept his right leg from beneath him, using its own right leg, causing Helaprosti to fall hard on his face. The shock of the sudden burst of pain stole his breath. When he did manage to breathe, he tasted his own blood...

In the next breath the monster had Helaprosti held above its head with one hand, and on the other hand, a long, flat, jagged leaf-dagger was forming. The Supreme formed a fist and without hesitation plunged his leaf-dagger into Helaprosti's back…

He gasped at the explosion of pain and the sheer speed of the attack. But he still clung to his sword. He gagged on the blood that filled his mouth.

In another moment the behemoth threw him closer to the exit and farther away from his second sword, its own swords all but forgotten.

Helaprosti felt as though all his bones would shatter like porcelain when he landed. _By the Gods, this cannot happen, _he thought, trying to keep the possibility that he may die this soon at bay.

The Supreme was not through with him yet. It closed the distance between them, brandishing that long leaf-dagger that grew from the top of its hand. _No, it cannot end like this. It mustn't!_ thought the white-clad warrior frantically, eyeing the dagger with apprehension.

The Haezoh Supreme straddled Helaprosti and brought its dagger fast towards his head, only to be blocked, and in the same movement cut off, by Helaprosti's single Sword of Fire. Wasting no time, he sent his right fist into the Supreme's non-face. It staggered backwards.

The wounded warrior rolled backwards, ending up in a kneeling position. _I see I won't make it outside. This must end now, _he resolved, head down as if in prayer. He let go of is one remaining sword.

Helaprosti quickly charged the Supreme and held it in a headlock with all the strength he could muster. In this position he willed his body to turn to molten lava causing the Supreme's physical properties to change; under his grasp the Haezoh Supreme turned into glass. The boy then sent his knee through the glass Supreme's back, causing the monster to shatter into large hunks.

_Finally._

Six down, six to go…

Helaprosti fell to his knees not even bothering to avoid the glass remains of the Haezoh Supreme. He was weakening, he knew. He needed to get back to the sanctuary of the Grounds, for he could feel his life slipping through the opening in his core.

The blood wouldn't stop coming. It hurt to breathe. Getting to his feet would be agony. But getting back to the Grounds would assure that they would _all_ survive.

Forcing himself to his feet and taking a deep—and painful—breath, he concentrated on the totem animal he had been granted centuries before. His human form transformed into glowing white form of his totem, the Dragon.

And he and the fallen pair were spirited away with a beam of bright white light.

_Worry not. Your friends will be fine, _came Helaprosti's familiar thought pattern, trying its best to reassure Liz. But regardless, Liz was anxious for this fight to be over with so she could be by her friends' sides. Plus she was enraged at the damage those godforsaken Haezoh had done. Liz looked forward to making them pay.

But her desire for retaliation turned steadily to fear as she realized what she was seeing: the Haezoh were pairing off and merging together to form super-sized Haezoh. She recalled how worse-for-wear Helaprosti was after fighting one.

_Oh, God, help us, _she prayed…

For Pete this should have been the ultimate sci-fi lover's dream-come-true. To find that you are chosen to save the world from the evil aliens that wish to destroy it, and to be granted abilities that seemed to be ripped straight from Galidor.

But nowhere in all the TV shows and comics did is say anything about the heroes getting stomped and being picked off one by one in only their first battle.

This was clearly no comic book romp. This fight was about to escalate to all new levels.

Liz's heart was pounding at her throat and she could plainly see that Pete was thoroughly freaked out by this change in events as well. But it was John who wouldn't betray how worried he was.

He was trying to slip back into his tough-guy persona, but Liz could sense that his anxiety was as deep as hers and that he was ready for this fight to be over for the same reason she was…

This was John's chance to be the hero for Antoinette that she was for him these past few months.

But even though he was determined in this resolve, he couldn't forget that it was _Brad_ who came running to her rescue, and was _Brad _that had taken damage trying to protect her.

He couldn't shake the image of her cradling Brad in her arms...

But he had to.

John had to hurry up and finish these things so that he could be there when she woke up…

Just then he realized that she was no longer in the garage, and he became frantic. "Don't worry," Liz said. "They're with Helaprosti."

"Yeah, that's reassuring!" John replied, not in the least bit shocked that Liz knew what he was thinking. "We've only known the guy for, what an _hour__?_ And already we're getting slaughtered! Do you really expect me _not_ to worry?"

He had a point.

There was no reply. There was no time for one, for the three Supremes had chosen a teen and pounced into action.

One of the creatures' huge fists had found its way to John's jaw before he could fully take in what was going on. Then came another...John didn't know how boxers did it, but the pain made him want to throw in the towel.

Continuing its assault, the Supreme grabbed onto the front of John's jacket and sent its knee into his gut. John had been in enough fights before, but this one was crazy. Never had he willingly taken on someone twice his size, whose fist was almost the size of his own head. He was in way too deep...

The Supreme then hoisted him into the air and slammed him back down to earth. _Oh my fucking God, I'm gonna die here! _he thought frantically. John was flat on his back, nose gushing, and that monster didn't wait another moment to pin him down.

The Haezoh Supreme reeled back his arm, revealing a large spike that appeared in its palm. John grabbed its wrist with both hands and fought with all his strength to keep the spike from coming near his face. He managed to push the creature's hand back arm's length.

John didn't like the way the spike looked pointed at him like that, and a thought occurred to him: _He's gonna shoot it at me!_ He pushed the hand up above his head and the spike flew right over. He needed this thing off of him, because he didn't know how much longer he could hold the big brute off. Then something else occurred to him.

_Don't mind if I do!_

John felt a weird tingly sensation traveling up his arm as he prepped himself to unleash the ability he just stole. Quickly removing one hand, he fired off spike after spike into the Supreme's non-face until it fell backwards and off him…

_**Meanwhile…**_

The second Supreme launched a vine followed by another, both of which Liz dodged. She was glad the thing was staying its distance. But she knew her luck wasn't going to last.

She spotted a chainsaw. _Yes!_ she thought with glee as she dashed for it. The Supreme let out another one, which she tripped over. The girl quickly scrambled to her feet and prayed, _Please still have gas…_as she hefted the weighty chainsaw up and started yanking the ripcord.

Now wasn't a great time for the stupid thing to be stubborn because that creature was making its way towards her—yet that was what was happening.

_Please don't do this to me!_ she begged, but the thing was still non-responsive and her shoulder was beginning to hurt from all the pulling. The Supreme was breaking into a run and within moments the thing was upon her. She pointed the chainsaw towards the Supreme at the last moment, and the Supreme landed right on it.

Liz decided to give the cord one last yank—and success! The engine started up, the chain spun while still in the Supreme. The girl was more than just a little freaked out to see the monster quake with the chainsaw. She let go, relieving her arms, and stepped back to let the chainsaw do its thing.

_**Elsewhere…**_

Pete was thoroughly freaked out. This was a dude that never fought a day in his life, and now he was expected to go ten rounds with a thing twice his size! This had to be someone's sick idea of a joke. Well, if he was going to have his head separated from his body, he'd at least like to have a weapon in his hands. _Ah!_ he thought, spotting a metal bar. It was the length and girth or a broomstick but it was weighty.

The Supreme approached, but Pete made the first move. He swung the metal bar across the thing's face and was happily surprised that it connected. Then he followed through with a jab to the neck, which also connected. But when he tried to do it again, the creature caught the end of it in its hand and yanked it sideways, causing Pete to momentarily lose his balance. Still, he held on to the bar.

The Supreme then shot out its foot to connect with the back of Pete's leg where it bent at the knee, forcing Pete to fall on that knee. Then the monster followed through with a hook kick to the side of Pete's head, but Pete recovered quickly and sent the tip of the bar into the creep's midsection. He then stood up and brought the bar down on the back of the thing's head. And then again...and again…

Pete continued to beat the Supreme down, imagining the Supreme was one of the many bullies that had him in the same position, until it lay very, very still...

_**Meanwhile…**_

John didn't feel too well. In fact, he felt downright light-headed. His breathing didn't come easily either. Somehow he knew that this wasn't exhaustion—or the fact that he just got stomped…

And then came a sharp pain at his midsection, as if he had been stabbed…

The pain was so intense that it made his eyes roll back in his head.

"Oh, God," he groaned. The boy stumbled back a few steps, and then finally fell onto his back.

His eyes fluttered…

The last image John saw before he lost all consciousness was that of the Supreme he just felled rising up and moving menacingly towards him…

"Oh no you don't!" said Liz as she saw that overgrown thing approach John's lifeless body. She figured it would be safe to move, seeing as how the chainsaw had her Supreme sufficiently immobilized.

The girl got between them and placed a force field around her and John. The Supreme began pounding and slashing at the force field, she felt the shock of each blow through her outstretched arms.

"John!" she yelled, not taking her eyes off the persistent Haezoh Supreme. _He can't hear me_, she assessed.

_John_, she sent mentally. _John, I need you to wake up_. But what she saw troubled her…

John felt as though he were having an out of body experience; like he was just in it for the ride…

_What was going on? Where was he?_

_All he knew was that he had no control of this frame._

_He was in a dimly lit room with candelabras adorning the walls and a single full-length mirror in the middle._

_The body approached the mirror and for the first time John was able to see his face—but it wasn't his…_

_It was the face of a man he didn't recognize—and he was weeping._

_He wore a black robe and held a large knife..._

What the hell? _thought John._

_If this were a dream, he'd very much like to wake up now..._

_Holding the knife with both hands, pointing towards his naval, the stranger began to speak in a strange language:_

"_Bihjog, utet ciole riž woigshaket ics sa hwiz rabosha." _Master, I hear your call, and I come.

_And with that said, the stranger plunged the knife into his stomach…_

_Oh, God…The pain…_

Liz quickly took herself out of John's mind.

An indescribable sound of anguish then escaped John's mouth. "John!" She bellowed, hardly able to concentrate on holding up the force field. "What the hell was that?"

The boy was slowly coming back to awareness.

The Supreme was still pounding away at the force field…

_**Elsewhere…**_

Both Pete and Liz saw when John hit the ground, but only Pete hesitated to go to his aid. The Supreme now lied very still and he stood there debating on whether or not he should bother.

Pete shouldn't think that way, though, because they were friends now…But Pete still reserved the right to hold a grudge, right? He'd jump in—he just wanted to see John get just a little beat up first…

Shaking his head though, he decided now would be a good time because _Liz_ was in danger. Pete dropped the metal bar after spotting some chain, then he whipped it in the direction of the Supreme's ankles and yanked as hard as he could just as the monster was about to pounce on Liz, who had let the force field to fall after falling onto her backside.

Pete picked the metal bar back up and ran to John and Liz's side.

John was now getting back to his feet…but so were the Supremes. The creatures had them surrounded. _Oh shit,_ was the collective thought. They all poised for battle anyway.

Just then Liz heard Helaprosti mentally send to her, _Grab onto each other now!_ she relayed the message, and in another moment they were transported to the Grounds in three beams of white light.

_Zen'Aku Lati, Tuesday, November 16, 2010_


	4. Ch4: Duty Accepted

_The Destiny Trilogy _

Book One: _The Legend of Chantri-Bova_

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Power Rangers, I just own this little universe and these characters. Besides, with the stuff I'm about to do, Power Rangers wouldn't touch this with a ten-foot pole.**

**Author's Note:**** To a couple of you, some of these parts may seem familiar. Trust me, you're not going crazy; I had published a version of this before. But I wanted to take an opportunity to clean it up and repost these early parts because the following chapters are gonna hit hard and I wanted my readers to see where everything was coming from. **

**I really believe in this story and I want to present it in its best light. Indulge me. I believe you'll find the ride worthwhile.**

**Please read and feedback is always welcome.**

**Thank you.**

Chapter 4: _Duty Accepted_

_**The Near Future...**_

Ptep looked at his prisoner, making circles around where he had been chained. Somehow, the Blue Keeper managed to get inside his palace, and in spite of being caught, the Blue Keeper kept up an appearance of confidence. Ptep found this amusing. Soon there would be no more of that smile...

"So you say you love her, do you?" Ptep taunted, stopping his laps to look the Blue Keeper in the eyes.

"With all my heart," said the boy. This amused the nobleman. There was little to no doubt that the poor fool believed his words. Ptep must set this delusional child straight.

"Look, human. What makes you think she could ever love a common, mortal like you when she can have a powerful conqueror such as myself?" At this the prisoner smiled.

"She can love mortal because she _is_ mortal. And you're selling her short to think that she'll love you for your power. She loves me, as ordinary as I am."

"You seem so certain of yourself, Blue Keeper. But that won't help you. As strong as you think you are, you have a chink in your armor. Rest assured, boy: I will break you."

_**Back to the Show…**_

Helaprosti and the fallen pair rematerialized in the infirmary of the Grounds. Just being around all the potions and powders made him feel somewhat better. He laid the two in the Detox Sauna and then worked on himself.

He really needed to train. He had not expected to be hurled back into battle like this. And during briefing, he was never told that the Haezoh could merge. Yes, they all would have to go through training as soon as possible.

He dragged himself over to the stove and lit it with a spark from his fingertips, and then proceeded to gather the ointments, potions and bandages he'll need. He did not look forward to what he had to do next, but walking around with a gaping, infected hole did not appeal to him either.

He selected a knife from the tools cabinet and put it in that special stove. Moments later when he was satisfied that the knife was hot enough he took it in his hands and thought about how much this would hurt as he looked upon the knife with trepidation. But thinking back, he realized that he had experienced far worse pain—in more than one sense. At least this pain would _preserve_ his life.

He placed the knife into his wound and did it hurt! He had to fight everything within him not to scream. _Just a bit longer…_he convinced himself, and moments later he withdrew the knife. The gash began to close.

When the wound closed up to leave behind a nasty scar, Helaprosti carefully stood up and made his way back to the Detox Sauna. He removed them individually and put them on their own tables and began working on Antoinette, figuring she'd be easier to deal with.

He unraveled a length of bandage and began smearing ointment on it, then asked for forgiveness from the unconscious Antoinette as he pushed up her blouse to reveal the gashes on her midsection. He then wrapped her in the bandages.

Helaprosti shook his head with a smile. He could always spot a fellow Likjatish. It was an honor to be in her presence once again…

Looking upon her made him homesick, but he knew that all the familiar places and people were long gone; he knew that there would be nothing left of the land he once knew. "Maxedes…" he recalled.

Just then Antoinette stirred, her eyes fluttered open. "Who's Maxedes?" she asked, trying to sit up. Helaprosti gently pushed her back down. "Who's Maxedes?" she asked again with a smile. Knowing that if he didn't say something she would continue to press, he sighed and relented.

"He was my dearest friend before…" Helaprosti's voice trailed off as he recalled what happened, and realized that he did not want to go into it.

"Before…?" Antoinette persisted, attempting again to sit up.

Gently nudging her back down, he avaded, "Do not concern yourself. Please, be still."

Yielding, Antoinette continued, "Yes, doctor." She paused.

"Did you break his heart?" Helaprosti shot her an angry glance but only saw genuine compassion; she wasn't teasing him. He softened his features.

"No. Unfortunately it was nothing quite so nice." The memories pained him. Antoinette noticed.

"Whatever it was, I'm sure he would've forgiven you."

_Yes, he would have._ Thought Helaprosti. _But I can't._

"What suddenly made you think of him?" she asked, wincing a bit.

_Correction: I _always_ think of him, _he thought.

"You," said Helaprosti. "You remind me of someone I knew from home." Antoinette raised an eyebrow but continued.

"What was that like?" Antoinette probed, propping herself up on one elbow.

Helaprosti allowed his mind to travel back to his home world. "Likjatbi was mostly desert," he began, as the memories of the landscape formed vivid pictures in his mind. "And some find that hard to adjust to, but I thought it was beautiful." Antoinette sat up fully. Helaprosti didn't even bother to push her back onto the table; he should've known she would be stubborn. He had to smirk.

"Our world had a beauty all its own. Sand that change colors with the seasons, and the most breathtaking sunsets a man could ever see in all his life. Even though it was mostly desert, the land wasn't devoid of scenery. Flowers did grow. The most beautiful and exotic flowers grew in Likjatbi. They were highly sought after on even other worlds!" he recounted, beaming with obvious pride.

"That sounds amazing…" Antoinette said in awe, trying to imagine it all—and finding it surprisingly easy.

"I figured you would." He smiled a knowing smile turning his attention back to Brad. "Indeed, you are very much like her. As you should be."

_As I should be? _Antoinette was about to ask the long-haired boy what he meant, but looking at Brad's unconscious form brought her back to the present.

She approached her friend's still body, noting that the gashes in his neck had all but disappeared, leaving behind ugly bruises. He looked so frail lying there on the table. Worry crept back into her.

"Don't fret," Helaprosti stated, his voice startling her. "He should recover in a few hours. Now he needs to rest, as do you," he finished, trying his best to sound reassuring.

"Perhaps you should take your own advice. You still look like hell," Antoinette joked. "Besides," she continued, "I should get back out there. My friends still need me."

"No, stay here and rest." Helaprosti emphasized, then putting on a nervous smile, he continued, "There will be other days," trying to sound cheerful even though they both knew that that fact was anything but. "I'm bringing them back anyway; even _with_ your additional help, they still wouldn't fair well," Helaprosti reasoned. _Worry not. Your friends will be fine,_ he mentally sent with intentions to reassure. And within moments John, Pete and Liz appeared in three beams of blinding white light.

Brad woke up with a start, and the first word out of his mouth was "Nette!"

While he was unconscious, his mind kept going back to the battle. How those vines caught him by the neck before he could react, how Antoinette swooped in and saved _his_ ass, and how her sad face was the last thing he saw before blacking out.

"Hey, Brad! Glad you decided to join us!" Antoinette greeted with a smile, concern and relief etched all over her face. "How do you feel?"

"I've had better days," he replied, putting on a brave face.

"Well, you better get back on your feet soon. It's a little freaky to see you all laid up like this," she admitted, half joking.

_You're telling me!_ Brad mentally concurred. "How do _you_ feel?" he asked, recalling that she had gotten sick at the scene of the battle.

"I'll be fine as soon as I get some food in my stomach."

Brad then noticed something over Antoinette's shoulder, and for a moment his attention was divided. _Liz…_he thought.

She must've somehow heard him because at that moment Liz looked up to make eye contact with him and was coming in his direction. Antoinette then took one of his hands in both of hers and said, "Feel better, okay?" and left his side.

"Liz…" he said out loud. He didn't even realize how glad he was to see her. Like he hadn't seen her in the longest. He sat up painfully.

For a moment they just looked at each other.

She looked like she had been through hell, and it wasn't simply because she looked an unruly mess. Brad wanted so much to put her mind at ease. He took hold of one of her hands and gently guided her to him.

Liz sat at the edge of the table, continuing to look at him. Her gaze shifted from his eyes to his neck, and her brows furrowed as she reached out a hand to gingerly touch his bruised neck.

_No, Liz_, thought Brad. He didn't want her making herself upset over him. He intercepted her hand and took both of them in his. She smiled.

_**There**__ it is,_ Brad thought, smiling himself. He ran his fingers through her wild dark-blonde hair and brought her into an embrace…

John was so anxious to get back to Antoinette. He hoped she would be awake and moving, for he imagined himself sweeping her up in his arms like the heroes did in all the movies. But his bravado left him as he once again saw her with _him_. His eagerness deflated and once again he was left feeling inadequate. Like the outsider...But he was still glad to see that she was alright, nonetheless.

John soon felt out of place and antsy, and was still squirming when Antoinette made her way to him. Plus, having her standing there looking at him the way she was didn't help in the slightest.

He suddenly became very fascinated with his sneakers. "I'm glad you're okay…I was worried…" he said, feeling, and probably sounding, like an indiot. He wasn't expecting her arms to be around his neck. He wasn't expecting her lips to be touching his cheek. But he _did_ get to hold her in his arms like he had hoped…

Pete, on the other hand, was an unusual blend of exhilaration and uncertainty. He found it odd how quickly he had taken to fighting. The sense of control he felt using that metal bar was undeniable. He didn't know which freaked him out more: having to take on those creatures that were unlike anything he had ever read about in comics, knowing full well that they had been sent to kill him—or that he liked the feeling he got from bashing the creature's head in…

Even though Pete had been concerned about Brad and Antoinette's well being, he had a deep faith in Brad's ability to recover, and if Antoinette was up and about, Brad would soon be as well. The thing most prominent on Pete's mind was the battle they just barely escaped.

Pete had been recounting it with Liz, but he wasn't blind; he could tell that Liz's thoughts were preoccupied. He knew it had to be one of two people on her mind: John or Brad, so Pete wasn't too surprised when Liz excused herself.

Moments later Liz was in Brad's arms. Looking at the other side of the room, he saw John and Antoinette in each other's arms. Looking around the room at everyone else pairing off made him feel alone all of a sudden.

John's got Antoinette, Brad's got Liz and Pete's got no one. This wasn't out of the usual for him. But it stung like a bitch to just come from the fight of your life and have no one to fawn over you. To hold you like everybody else was being held.

John has Antoinette…Just then Pete got the feeling that there must have been something terribly wrong with the universe to grant someone like John such a great girl like Antoinette. It just didn't make sense…

Helaprosti stood aloof and observed with some degree of pleasure that most of his Chosen Ones had established personal ties, and that in general, they were all friends. This form of unity would prove vital if they were to have any success against the darkness that was bound to come.

He needed them to trust each other, so that there would be no question in anyone's mind to go to the aid of their teammates.

Being able to work as a cohesive unit was a precious skill that he didn't have the luxury of time to teach. Time was, indeed, of the essence.

Helaprosti took this opportunity to slip away. Besides, he wanted to do some research.

The recruiter made his way up the stairs to the Library, which also served as a surveillance, intelligence and conference room, and commanded the canvas viewing screen to become active as he took a seat in one of the conference chairs.

"Screen, show me Earth." The screen showed him a globe of the Earth.

"Display recent Haezoh activity." Spots appeared on the globe. Pink indicating the least recent activity, red indicating the more recent activity, and the blinking red light indicating the site they had all just left.

He was alarmed by this degree of activity. The screen indicated that Ptep had already unleashed the Haezoh onto the public and that already people have lost their lives.

"Show me the local news," Helaprosti commanded. The view of the globe minimized and was replaced with the news.

"Reports of strange occurrences have been popping up all over the city," said the female field reporter. "And police officers have been flooded with missing persons reports…" Helaprosti didn't need to hear any more. It had begun…

Antoinette took a look around the Infirmary at all her friends, mostly in bandages, but alive and well. This made her smile. But something occurred to her that disturbed her: what if they wouldn't always be together like this; alive and well? That brought an unwanted shiver down her spine.

"Man, this place is…unbelievable!" Pete's voice broke in. "I wonder what the rest of this place looks like." He met with agreement from the rest of the group.

"Hey, Nette, you comin'?" John asked, slightly concerned.

Antoinette put on a brave face and replied, "Yeah, yeah. I just wonder where the guy went…" And with that, they all broke off to go see what there was to see.

The girl recalled seeing him go up some stairs. Retracing his steps, she found the room Helaprosti was in, watching the news on a large screen. Antoinette cleared her throat loudly.

The young man looked up to acknowledge her presence, but he said nothing. The only sound that greeted her was the grim report from the news. It was in no way inviting, but if she were to wait for Helaprosti to do it, she'd probably be standing in the doorway all night.

"You disappeared on us, so I decided to come find you. Do you want some company?" Antoinette asserted, taking a step into the room adored with ancient-looking books and a large canvas screen. She noticed that Helaprosti was once again slipping back into his own thoughts.

"You ran away from us," she continued, making her way towards the bookshelves. "I didn't realize we were that annoying!" Antoinette joked, fingering the books, then settling on one, taking it off the shelf and thoughtlessly flipping through it.

"But I totally understand. This is a nice place to escape to," she finished. It was hard to make a joke with that depressing-ass news on.

After an awkward silence, she asked, "What are you thinking about?" making her way to the chair next to his at the table, book still in hand.

"I'm thinking about tonight's battle," Helaprosti answered finally, still not looking at her.

"Those things were fierce, weren't they?" Antoinette concurred.

"And it gets better," the young man continued. "They can merge!" he finished with mock glee. And here these creeps were, making news.

"What do we do?" Antoinette asked, afraid of the answer.

"We fight," Helaprosti said, matter-of-factly. "That is, _if_ you and your friends choose to accept the responsibility," he added as if it were an afterthought. Just then the others arrived.

"Hey guys. Done already?" Antoinette asked. If anything, she lost track of time.

"Uh, yeah. We were looking around and we found out that this place is _huge_," Pete replied awkwardly, sensing the tension in the room. "There's, like, five floors to this place. Where we were in the Infirmary was only on the first floor. There's a Commons on the second floor, and dorm rooms and showers on the third. Since we found you, I guess we'll save the fifth floor for another time." He paused, cautiously taking a step into the Library. "Is everything okay in here?"

"Yes and no," Helaprosti answered. "Please, come in and have a seat." They all filed in. The news was still broadcasting the current state of weirdness.

"Dude, I think you have some explaining to do," Brad directed to Helaprosti.

"My name is Helaprosti. Please learn it for future reference," Helaprosti hissed with a cold glare.

"Those things we were fighting…I can't believe how…horrible they were!" Liz spoke up, finding it hard to come up with the right words.

"Yes, the Haezoh," Helaprosti began. "Ptep made sure they'd come out that way. Those things were once people like you or I, but without their souls, they are but mere husks of what they used to be.

As some of you have experienced, the Haezoh can merge, meaning they can do more damage. In fact, they have already begun taking lives. And unfortunately, they are not the worst.

"This is where all of you come in. You are this world's only true defense against Ptep and all he has planned, for you are the only ones on this world with your abilities." Helaprosti then leaned back in his chair to allow what he had just said time to sink in.

"I don't mean to pressure you, but your world needs you, and you are not yet fully equipped to defend it," he continued. "With my help you can be, but only if you choose to accept," he finished, hammering his point home by leaning into the desk.

After a pause, Brad spoke up for the group, "I think we should sleep on this."

"Of course," Helaprosti replied with a sigh.

The group of teenagers cleared the room. The young man shut the door behind them. He'd take this opportunity to get some answers himself.

He commanded the viewing screen to deactivate and withdraw. Taking a deep breath he began: "Ō Qȗpahedohi, utet ciole iesuocrovet qovsha." _Oh, Great Ones, I beg your audience._

Moments later he heard a multiple voice answer, but as always, their presence was felt but not seen, instantly the Library became a good twenty degrees colder. Helaprosti stifled a shiver.

"_Yes, son. What is it that you require?"_

Clearing his throat, Helaprosti ventured, "I require answers, Great Ones. How is it that I was never informed of the Haezoh's ability to merge? How am I to best guide them if I'm not given all information?" Helaprosti almost swore he saw his breath.

"_Do you not know by now, Son, that there is a reason for all that we do and all we choose not to say? As the good mentor you are, if you had known that they would be so overwhelmed, you would not have sent them to fight the Haezoh. But it was essential for them to become familiar with their abilities. Besides, if no one took the Haezoh on, they would have done far more damage than they already have."_ Helaprosti nodded his head in understanding.

"_We still find it amusing that you insist on questioning our judgment."_ The multiple-voice chuckled. Helaprosti never quite got over how disconcerting that was. _"As always, Helaprosti, you can come to us with any concerns you may have. And rest assured that everything that we may have you do is for a reason."_ And with that, they were gone; the room regained its warmth and Helaprosti could no longer feel their presence.

_**Meanwhile…**_

After taking a few steps in silence, Brad finally broke it. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm good for a shower." Everyone concurred.

"Wait a minute," said Liz, suddenly. Her serious tone stopped everyone in their tracks. "What time is it?"

Pete stole a quick a glance at his digital watch and offered, "Quarter to 12."

"Oh, my God!" Liz fretted. "Mom is gonna freak!"

Indeed, Liz had just made them realize that all their parents were probably beside themselves, especially if they just watched the news—unless, of course, you're John's parents, then you don't give a damn…

_**But they all worked out their stories and proceeded to pass around John's cell phone, attempting to convince their parents to let them stay out all night. **_

John found it difficult to relax but in spite of that he still managed to nod off.

And there it was, that same awful vision that he had back at the battle, with the same feeling of being in a body that wasn't his…

…_Only this time it was coming from a different point._

_This time the body was knelt amongst scores of other prostrate men, facing a large stone altar in front-center of the room, chanting in that strange language:_

"Qȗpahedo, ciotet jwij ut iž wikosharavet hirguturochevet, eh luikaž sozukogthevet ics eh uc ciole vgoij dgohocro wazsthe." _Master, you promised that if we sacrifice all we have, you would deliver us and hold us in your great presence._

"Lotet lujw iž lole woigjhi jwijvet sa qozuokoshara. Lujw iž lole qoda uc cio sa qozuokoshara." _We believe this with all our hearts. We believe in you with all our being._

"Lotet ja jwo tuciz hirguturovet icjurudijoshara." _We look forward to the final sacrifice._

_Once the creed was said, the group of worshippers was then disbanded._

_Everyone seemed to be leaving the mysterious building, but the body stayed, moving onto a chapel of sorts._

_This room again…_

"_There will be no more putting off of the event," the voice spoke, cracking with remorse._

**No, I don't want to see his face!** _John begged, when the body approached the mirror._

**Put away that knife!** _John pleaded._

**Please God, no!**

The pain ripping through his gut startled him awake. There was no way in hell he was going back to sleep now.

_**Meanwhile…**_

Satisfied with her shower, Antionette made her way to the quarters, and put on the loose-fitting pajamas that were laid out for her. After fretting for about an hour she finally drifted off to a fitful sleep…

_The sound of her own heartbeat flooded her ears, and for a time it was the only sound she could hear._

_Gradually, her heartbeat turned into the sound of the hooves of a horse hitting the ground._

_They sped up, and multiplied, becoming a teem of horses, hooves pounding, deafening like thunder._

_She and an army on horseback charged across the sand, coupling the thunder with fierce battle cries._

_But her battle cry was cut short; the wind was knocked out of her._

_She looked down and saw the arrow that was robbing her of breath._

_The thunder around her slowly reverted back to her own heartbeat._

_It became weaker and weaker, until finally there was no sound…_

Antoinette woke with a start, heart pounding in her chest and sweating profusely. "What the hell was that?" she gasped…

Brad was just a little too damn exhausted to think, even though he tried. It was just too much. Going from one physical exertion to another, then having all this dumped on his mind. It was just impossible to keep his eyes open. And so Brad began to drift off…

He wasn't certain whether or not he was dreaming it when moments later he saw his door part and Liz step through. But all was confirmed when she slid in next to him and whispered, "Hi." He smiled sleepily, drew her nearer and soon fell asleep.

Brad was so cute when he slept. This was definitely something Liz could get used to. She liked being in his strong like this. Liz stole a kiss and settled her head on his chest where she let the rise and fall lull her to sleep.

Pete, on the other hand, was too excited to sleep. He just laid there in the dark of his Quarters, letting his mind race. Even though it was unlike him to fight, he had to admit that he did like the thrill, and he was beginning to feel that being a defender of the Earth was his destiny, the one thing his life had been missing. He no longer had to live through fantasy books and comics. Now he was really _needed!_

Pete didn't know about everyone else, but he was more than willing to accept Helaprosti's offer…

Hours passed and Pete was finding it pointless to remain in bed; all he would do is think, so he might as well do it on his feet. He hopped off the bed, left his room and went downstairs to the Commons.

He still couldn't believe what was happening to him. Not to sound like a sci-fi cliché, but he was about to embark on a grand adventure and he couldn't wait to start.

Just then, John entered the Commons and a new thought came to him: if John accepted, would Pete feel comfortable with having his back? Could he trust himself to put aside his grudge to maybe save that guy's life? How odd…

Pete never thought in a million years that he'd be on the same team with John, or in _two_ million years that he'd be _friends_ with the guy! Odd…

Pete took a seat and acknowledged John's presence. They may become partners in the near future, but that doesn't mean he has to talk to John _right now_…

The light in the commons hurt John's eyes, but he just couldn't stay in his room. He walked in to find that apparently he wasn't the only one that couldn't sleep. John gave Pete his infamous upwards nods. He was a little too shaken up to actually talk.

For the rest of his life, John never wanted to have another dream like that…

Dream…John wasn't certain that was right. Dream…Nah, somehow, John knew better than that…

That damn Helaprosti! His life was going just perfect before that weirdo came along and fucked things up…Ha! Now the creep wants him to join him to fight those freaks on a daily basis!

But…there was something about being needed that made John really consider this offer. This was that golden opportunity to flex his muscles for a greater purpose, and show Antoinette that he was worthy of the chance she gave him. Maybe he _could_ do this…

Antoinette yawned and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she entered the Commons. Just because she was jolted from her sleep, doesn't mean that she stopped being tired. When her eyes were fully cleared she realized that there were other people in the room.

The girl would've been happy to see them had the tension not smacked her so hard.

"Oh my God, guy! You would not believe the dream I just had!" she chirped. "I was riding a horse. Excuse me! I've never ridden a horse in my whole life! It was so weird." Phew, good, a smile! Now, for business.

"What do y'all think about Helaprosti's offer?" she posed, carefully. She paused before continuing, "I'm thinking about accepting." There was silence. Too long, if you asked her. "Where are Brad and Liz?"

Back in Brad's room, as much as she liked being in Brad's arms, Liz couldn't help tossing. How could everything get so weird in one night? Yet there it was: she was picking up strange images from John, fighting ugly killer monsters and being asked to do it again, and then some…

What the hell? But if the world needed her protection, how could she refuse?

Brad was awakened by Liz's stirring. Even in the dark he could tell that she was troubled. Holding her close, Brad asked, "What's wrong, babe?" Even though he had a pretty good idea what it was.

"I was thinking about tonight…but I think too much…" Liz answered, cutting herself off.

"Then you must be thinking what I'm thinking…" Brad responded. "Call me crazy, but I'm thinking about accepting they guy's offer."

"_Helaprosti_, Brad. And I'm thinking the same thing," Liz replied.

Moments later there was a knock at Brad's door, and Antoinette's voice followed shortly.

"Umm…" she began awkwardly. "I knocked on the other door and no one answered…I mean, duh, it's like four in the morning, but…I figured you guys weren't sleeping, cause no one else could sleep…Umm…Everyone's in the Commons, if you wanna come out and talk? Okay…sorry!" Antoinette finished.

Brad had to laugh, and Liz was stifling a chuckle. "We're coming out!" Brad replied, between snickers. Brad and Liz crawled out of bed and went with Antoinette to the Commons.

By the time Helaprosti arrived, everyone else had already come together and were talking amongst themselves. Good, it was time to know their decision.

"Good morning," he greeted the group. All talk ceased. "What do you decide?"

Brad took a deep breath and spoke for everyone, "We accept."

_**The Arctic Palace…**_

As satisfactory as his Haezoh had been, he knew he needed to broaden his connections. He wasn't too proud to admit that he couldn't do this alone. But first things first…

Ptep looked around his beaten palace and realized that this place wasn't fit to receive anyone. How did he expect to instill confidence in those he wished to enlist if the very place he rested his head implied that he was falling apart? Ptep would take this opportunity to contact his greatest ally.

He closed his eyes and began. "Ō Qȗpahedo, utet ciole iesuocrovet qovsha." _Oh Great Being. I beg your audience._ Ptep couldn't understand how it could be possible for his drafty palace to get any colder, but the moment he uttered the last word, the temperature of the room dropped what felt like twenty to thirty degrees. Fortunately for Ptep, he liked the cold well enough, otherwise, how would he have been able to stand having his palace in the middle of the Arctic?—When asked why this location was chosen, Ptep was told that it was a way to keep his enemies close, but not _that_ close.

"Great Being, I pray that you don't think me foolish or selfish to request this of you, but I find that the state of my palace holds some significance to our plans," Ptep requested.

The air warbled with the sound of a voice that sounded both distant and close as the Great Being replied, "My son, there is no need to feel that way. I trust your judgment and I understand. When you return, the palace will be as you remember it." Ptep smiled and thanked his superior, and within moments His presence could no longer be felt.

_**Ptep had used the method that had been so handy in the past, to mentally reconnect with the most powerful galactic warlords this century had to offer, and now he was seated with them in conference to request an alliance.**_

Ptep didn't expect a warm welcome, or to be taken seriously. So he wasn't shocked when the men seated at the conference table thought he was a joke. He looked over to one particularly amused member and thought to himself, _I must remember to slit you throat once my mission is complete,_ then smirked at the man, and joined in the laughter.

"Oh gentlemen, you must really think me so naïve! And why shouldn't you? After all, I have been absent from such dealings for two centuries! But I assure you, gentlemen, that our benefactor, the Great Being would not have handpicked me if I could not deliver." At the mention of the diety, all laughter ceased.

"Do not think for a moment, my dear friends, that for my stay in those dungeons I have grown idle. But if, for some reason, you all still feel that I am not reliable, you might at least find my Haezoh of some use."

Ptep leaned back in his chair and basked in the buzz that filled the room. He was home.

_**9am, the Grounds…**_

John didn't sleep at all, because if he did then the time for him to leave would come all the faster.

He didn't look forward to leaving the place that already felt more like a home than his own house, but the time had come for them to depart, as they promised their parents the night before, and John didn't want to be left alone with that Helaprosti weirdo.

He was teleported a block from his house and he walked that one block as slowly as possible. He finally arrived at his door, broke out his keys and swung open the door to be greeted by the smell of dirty clothes and equally dirty dishes—and a booming male voice.

"Where the hell were you, boy? The little woman was worried!" his father thundered from where he was rolled up next to his woman-thing in his sofa bed.

"Out," John offered flatly, making his way up the stairs towards his room. _And why the fuck should I care if she was worried! It's not like she's my mother! __**She**__ had the good sense to walk out years ago!_ he thought to himself as he threw himself onto his messy bed.

John wanted nothing more than to catch some Z's.

_**9:15am…**_

Brad and Liz woke together and was teleported to their individual destinations.

Brad was teleported a block away from his house. "Mom, Pop! I'm home!" he announced as he unlocked and swung open his door, ,

His father craned his neck from the dining table to better view the front door. "Oh, I didn't hear you pull up in the driveway."

_Shit!_ Brad thought, completely forgetting about his car that was still parked in the school's parking lot.

"Um, I took the bus," Brad lied. "I didn't wanna wake anybody just to drive me home, ya know?"

Just then Brad caught a whiff of what his mother was whipping up in the kitchen and realized he was famished. "Aw, man, I'm starved!" Brad declared.

"That's our boy, always thinking with his stomach," his mother joked.

_**Meanwhile…**_

Liz was teleported down the block and around the corner from her house, and opened the door to be welcomed by the sound of the morning news blaring from the living room television.

"Hey, mom. I'm home." Liz announced.

"Hi, míja. How was the sleepover?" her mother inquired from the dining table, sipping on a cup of coffee and thumbing through the paper.

"It was cool," Liz lied, smiling her usual sweet smile.

"How come I've never met this 'Helen'?" her mother asked.

"Maybe one day you will," said Liz, going over to give her mother a kiss on the cheek. For some odd reason, Liz didn't get a good feeling from the idea.

"How come Brad didn't drop you off?" the woman continued.

_Jeez, mom. You're just full of questions this morning, aren't you?_

"Mom, you forget, Brad went out celebrating with the other guys on the football team. Do you really think he's gonna get up early just to give little ol' me a ride home?" Liz reasoned, smiling at her cleverness.

"Well, you can never be too safe, what with what's been on the news and all…"

Cutting her mother off with another kiss on the cheek and a hug, Liz reassured, "Yes, yes, mom. But I'm here and I'm safe. Mom, you're so cute," Liz giggled. But inside she just wasn't sure how long that would be the truth.

_**9:30am…**_

Pete took one last lingering look at the inside of the room he slept in, took his time walking down the hall and took the stairs down to the Commons to meet Helaprosti so that he could transport Pete home.

Pete still couldn't quite wrap his mind around how Helaprosti was able to get them from place to place…and then something occurred to him: Where the heck were they, exactly?

"Um, Helaprosti?" Pete began, "Where is this place?"

Turning to him, Helaprosti replied, "New Zealand."

"Awesome!" Pete exclaimed. "Why New Zealand, and not, like California? It doesn't snow as much in California and I hear it rains a lot in New Zealand."

"Well, personally, I prefer the desert. But the location of the Grounds was not up to me."

Pete was about to ask who decided the location, but he thought better of it and asked instead, "How will we get back here?"

"You all will meet in one place, then I'll teleport you in a group at noon. Then when you get back here, I'll show you how to teleport yourselves," Helaprosti finished.

"Awesomeness!" Pete exclaimed, and then was gone in a flash of white light.

_**Noon…**_

_**Pete had successfully spread the word and after working out another lie to tell their parents, they all chose a meeting spot, and within moments, they were transported away. One thing they had to hand to Helaprosti: he was punctual…**_

_**Once they arrived, they all chose comfortable spots in the Commons and waited for Helaprosti to go into the next order of business…**_

"We haven't a moment to waste. If you go to the quarters, you will see your training gear waiting for you."

_**Helaprosti left them to get ready for training, and after following his directions; they all went to the fifth floor—the one floor they didn't get a chance to explore—to wait for him.**_

Pete could tell that everyone was a bit anxious as they waited for Helaprosti to start the training session. But John seemed to be particularly fidgety, and then looked over in his direction. To Pete's surprise, John was approaching him.

The bigger boy seemed to consider before he began, "Look. Now that we're gonna be on the same team, I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry about, you know, how I treated you in the past. And I know that you probably still hate me because of that and stuff. I don't blame you. I just hope that that won't get in the way of what we have to do, and maybe one day you would like, you know, forgive me."

Pete didn't even bother hiding his surprise. He was torn between laughing in his face—for John couldn't really expect him to accept that apology—and seriously considering what John was saying.

On the one hand, John had been a creep and the worst kind of bully, so he would definitely earn Pete's ire. But on the other hand, John's proven himself to be a pretty decent guy—thanks to Antoinette.

But then again, what if he's only pretending to be cool to get Antoinette to like him? After all, it was no secret that John liked her. But on second thought, it's apparent that Antoinette likes John just as much, so John wouldn't have to pretend. Damn, he was getting dizzy with all this speculating!

But just before Pete could reply, Helaprosti entered the room. Training was about to begin...

The white-clad recruiter looked around the room at his students, his Keepers, and smiled. The Great Ones had entrusted him with the responsibility of molding these Chosen Ones into the ultimate fighting team to defend this planet. He couldn't help but beam with pride.

"Welcome to the Training Hall. Today, we'll be doing some meditation, because without it, we can't tap into our full power. And trust me, we'll need all the power we can get."

Part of meditation, Helaprosti explained, was to be able to conquer negative thoughts, for negative thoughts allowed for no confidence of action.

But Pete was finding it difficult to conquer _his_ negative thoughts, for they kept going back to John.

Back to that awful day in freshman year, with him on the ground absorbing the hail of fists and feet. He remembered catching a glimpse of John's grinning face as he delivered a kick to Pete's gut that knocked the wind out of him. Pete thoughtlessly felt for his ribs at the memory…

And just when he thought he would black out, in swooped Brad, pulling the bastards off him and throwing around punches—and bodies.

Who would've thought? A jock coming to the rescue of a nerd…

Pete came away with some broken ribs but a new friend that day…

But Pete knew what he could use to defeat his negative thoughts. He knew now that he had the opportunity to help people in that position, and that he had good friends who had his back.

Another part of meditation is turning those defeated negative thoughts into energy, which was formless and could be molded.

John defeated his negative feelings of guilt with the thought of Antoinette and the friendship she gave him…even if he didn't quite deserve it.

John was still blown away by the power of friendship. Not to sound cheesy, but there was nothing like having someone of your peers truly give a crap about you, and want to be around you, share a laugh with you…You couldn't get that through intimidation or force. He still had to shake his head at his luck.

And there was this new feeling brewing in him. He had developed feelings for Nette, and he smiled like a fool at the knowledge that she felt the same way.

There was something to be said about having that one person you'd do anything for...

The energy that he got from thinking about Antoinette was far beyond good. This energy was positively uplifting!

The third part of meditation was to take that energy and use it to tap into their abilities, to go beyond their basic awareness of it and into the more advanced uses.

For Brad, his energy floated around him like smoke. Then it began to shift into something more solid, forming discs with teeth-like grooves along the edges. Gears, huh? How fitting (no pun intended).

Brad's mind never did stop working. He was always thinking of the next possible move. Always strategizing. This skill came in handy on the football field, and sad to say, it would come in handy on the battlefield as well...

The meditation continued. The fourth part, Helaprosti explained, was to use their abilities like a bridge to their totem animals.

Antoinette was beginning to get it...all things were connected; one couldn't have one without the others, and all these parts were just symbols for who they were. In this session they would reconnect with _themselves_.

She found it a bit disconcerting to have thunder and lightning flashing above her head, but she knew that all this was under her control.

Under her control…was this her specialty: thunder and lightning?

Then the lightning turned into flames, and from the flames sprung up a huge bird. A phoenix.

Antoinette thought it was the loveliest thing…until she realized what the phoenix was: the bird that always died…yet never did…

The final part to this meditation session was to take that totem and turn it into the key that unlocks all other buried knowledge.

And there it was, hovering so beautifully before her. Liz's totem, the owl.

Liz smiled, for now she understood. The owl before her glowed with bright pink feathers, and in a moment she _became_ the owl as it turned into pure light. In this state Liz could envision herself anywhere…and go there.

This, Helaprosti explained, was teleportation. Now Liz knew what it was to fly...

_**The meditation was like nothing they had ever experienced before. It was far more of a rush than scoring the winning touchdown in the big game, getting to the final level of Final Fantasy, or winning a fight. **_

_**It was like their minds were transported to a different place. A different **__**time**__**, even.**_

_**And on this new plane of awareness, they were one. Not just a team, but also a single, living, breathing entity.**_

_**There on that new plane of awareness, they understood their connection to their abilities and their totem animals. It was also there that they understood the Call that would expose them to even more power. The Call that would unite them as the Dalog Yodogh; the Keepers of the Power…the Power Rangers...**_

Now that the meditation was complete, it was time to move on with the training.

As urgent as the situation was, Helaprosti also knew that the best way to approach the Art was with an open and calm mind. One thing Keepers always had was the ability to _become_ the Art. Perhaps in this way the Art could never truly be forgotten.

In order to get the most out of the Art, one's mind and body had to be flexible. Meditation played a big part of this; and if his team of Keepers were to stand a chance against all that would be thrown at them, they needed to have as much of the Art under their belt as humanly possible.

_Before they knew it, Haezoh surrounded them. But they understood that teamwork was key if they intended to survive._

_Liz readied her staff and struck, but not only did the Haezoh block; it disarmed her using a vine attack from its palm. Without hesitation, she levitated the Haezoh into the air, and while in the air, Brad shot it full of Fire Bullets, then turned his gun back into Sword Mode. Liz then let the Haezoh go, letting gravity do its thing as the Haezoh fell upon Brad's upraised sword._

_The Haezoh was very still, but as a precaution Brad withdrew his sword and quickly sent the Haezoh's head flying. Moments later the Haezoh disappeared…_

_Helaprosti wasn't going to wait for the Haezoh to attack first. He marched up to one and did a tornado kick, resulting in the top of his foot connecting with the back of the Haezoh's head, then followed that with a side kick, then was drawing his sword and slashing upwards at the Haezoh before his foot fully touched the floor._

_The Haezoh staggered backwards, but Helaprosti was not letting the Haezoh recover. He ignited his sword and ran the Haezoh through, then twisted the sword 90 degrees and sliced the sword out through the Haezoh's side._

_He then turned the sword down and intuitively plunged the sword into the gut of the Haezoh trying to sneak up behind him. Then pulled the sword free and spinning-heal kicked that Haezoh._

_Helaprosti looked over to where Antoinette was to see how she was fairing…_

_A Haezoh with its knives drawn attempted to stab at Antoinette, but she side-stepped and immediately plunged her weapon into the highs of its back. The Haezoh swung its arm out, but Antoinette blocked and sent the sai in her right hand into the Haezoh's side, then leaving it there, she sent her fist smashing into its jaw, and when the Haezoh was disoriented, she withdrew both her sais, and back flipped to put some distance between them._

_Helaprosti came to Antoinette's side. The Haezoh she was dealing with was regaining its bearings and was being joined by three more of his compatriots. Antoinette electrified her sais, and Helaprosti readied his sword of white phosphorus._

_One of the creatures launched one of its thorny vines in Antoinette's direction, but she blocked it with one of her sais, allowing the vine to wrap around it, and smirked when the electricity from her sai traveled up the vine, up the Haezoh's arm and electrocuted the faceless thing. Antoinette then cut the vine with her other sai and watched the remaining bit shrivel away. _

_Meanwhile, Helaprosti wasted no time laying to waste one of Haezoh that attacked him, mercilessly hacking the Haezoh to bits. _

_And then there were two._

_Antoinette took on one of the two forcing it in one direction, while Helaprosti propelled the other one backwards with kicks and slashes. And when the two remaining Haezoh were back-to-back, Helaprosti ran his blazing sword through them both. And with that all Haezoh disappeared…_

_Pete held his short-swords at ready as he surveyed his surroundings. Okay, there were four Haezoh, and John was nearby, fighting off his own set._

_All of a sudden, one of the Haezoh attacked him with its leaf daggers. Pete was soon engaged in a hand-to-hand battle, blocking and making wild slashes with his short-swords. He propelled the Haezoh back enough to notice another one coming his way._

_Pete side-kicked the approaching Haezoh in the gut, and slashed the one he was fighting in the "face". That was enough to send the two Haezoh back, but they were slowly regrouping. And three more Haezoh were approaching from a different direction._

_**Shit!**__ Pete thought to himself, and as an afterthought, __**Where the hell is John?**_

_Pete began to back up, holding up his short-swords. Great, there were two Haezoh behind him, three in front of him and no John in sight._

_Then, to Pete's surprise, one of the Haezoh in front of him was attacking the others! He held the other Haezoh in a headlock and drew an axe across its throat, then holstered the axe as he watched the other Haezoh fall._

_Then the Maverick Haezoh continued his assault by launching a thorny vine in the direction of the third Haezoh. The vine coiled around its neck and the Maverick Haezoh began reeling it in as he readied his leaf dagger, protruding from the top of his hand._

_Within seconds the Haezoh's "eye" connected with the Maverick Haezoh's leaf dagger. He then withdrew his embedded dagger from the Haezoh's "face" and let it drop._

_What the Maverick Haezoh did next shocked the hell out of Pete: the Haezoh turned into—John! Then John took his place next to Pete, for now the other two Haezoh were beginning their attack. _

"_Wait a minute!" Pete balked. "How the hell did you do that?" But all John did was smirk. _

_Pete and John then stood back-to-back, and without realizing it, were moving in unison._

_Pete readied one of his short-swords and John drew one of his axes, and they both hurled their weapons at the heads of their respective on-coming assailants, both weapons hitting their marks. Then both John and Pete quickly forward kicked their respective Haezoh, then dislodged their weapons and made a final slash to the "face". The two Haezoh fell and they, as well as the other two, disappeared._

All six of our heroes looked around the now Haezoh-free simulation room and took this opportunity to breathe.

_**Everyone went home that evening quite sore and tired. And each one knew that they'd have to come back the next day and do it again. But they also knew that it was paying off, and would all prove necessary soon…**_

_**And so the next day, the five came filing back onto the Grounds, threw on their training clothes and proceeded to get their butts kicked by the sheer rigor of the session. **_

_**And once again they all retreated home to catch up on some homework, and some Z's before having to go back to school in the morning…all, except one…**_

Antoinette wanted to talk to him a little more, see how much more she could discover. And from the looks of it, Helaprosti was looking forward to this opportunity as well.

"Antoinette, please have a seat," the young man offered, gesturing to the seat at the conference table at the Library. She felt all kinds of sticky; she hadn't yet hit the shower. She patted her forehead with her towel.

"I have some very important news concerning you," Helaprosti continued. His serious tone locked her attention. "The Great Ones have a message they wish for me to pass to you."

_Ancients…_Antoinette considered. "You mean the Gods you were talking about earlier?" she asked, even though she knew the answer.

"Yes," Helaprosti confirmed.

"Why would your Gods be worried about _me?_" she asked more to herself, now very glad she was sitting.

Sitting beside her he continued, "I cannot tell you the plan of the Great Ones. I don't know anything they do not wish me to know." Antoinette found it odd how rigid her body became at the mention of them, as if it knew to fear them.

Helaprosti placed a hand on her head and requested that she closed her eyes. Uneasily, she complied. "Open your mind, like we did in meditation," he instructed.

Willing her breathing and heartbeat to relax, her mind began to open...and flooding her blank mind were images she'd rather forget. Images of her and her friends dying horrible deaths…

"My God!" she gasped, breaking the trance. "What the hell kinda message was that?" she barked, outraged and shaken.

"One that you can prevent from coming to pass," Helaprosti answered matter-of-factly.

Skeptical as always she asked, "Was that real?"

"How real did it feel?" the boy countered. She thought about it, for indeed that image felt all too real.

"What can we do?" she asked, concerned.

"Not 'we', _you_." "What? Me? Shouldn't everybody be able to prevent their own deaths?" she demanded, outraged.

"Yes. If they knew when they were to die…" Helaprosti stated.

"They'll know when I tell them!" Antoinette spat, not understanding where the "if" came in.

"That's the thing, Antoinette. You will not tell them," Helaprosti rebutted calmly, a calmness that was beginning to get under her skin.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" she shot back, positively incensed.

"And you also won't tell the others about the Ancients beyond this point," he continued, ignoring her outcry.

"This is insane," Antoinette seethed, finally, getting up from her seat and heading to the door. She was steamed.

Just as she reached the door she stopped, whipped around and said to Helaprosti, "You know, you got some nerve. First, you expose to us those creepy swamp-things, tell us that we have to save the world from them and their crazy leader, then tell me in the future we all die and I can't tell the others…" She took a breath and shook her head, "You tell us that we're a team. That that's the only way we can win. If we all die, shouldn't we deal with it as a _team?_ Just what exactly are you tryna pull?"

"It is no accident that you're here. You all belong here," he assured. _But __**you**__ were handpicked…_"Please, Antoinette. Come back inside. I'll explain."

* * *

'(O_~)' Zen'Aku Lati, Monday, November 29, 2010


	5. Ch5: Undoing

_The Destiny Trilogy_

Book One:_ The Legend of Chantri-Bova_

**Author's Note:**** Hello again, and Merry Christmas! This is the chapter that made this whole rewriting process worth it. Once again, a lot of this will feel familiar, but I've sharpened the moments that I felt were pivotal, and trust me, once it gets there, the story never turns back.**

**I look forward to hearing from everyone to see what you think. Thanks in advance, and if you have any suggestions, please lemme hear it!**

**Finally, I apologize for this being so late (about a week and change later than I'd like), but finals were a bitch. Sigh, college…**

**Thanks:**** Thanks once again to one of my most consistent readers, **_**Stellar Raven**_**. Your feedback as always had been most insightful and I hope I do justice to your advice with this chapter.**

**Disclaimer:**** The lyrics are from Lady Saw's "Got Your Man". Download the song and then read the scene again. You'll laugh your ars off.**

**Warning:**** Contains racial slurs and derogatory slurs toward women and gays. Also contains slash and other sexual situations. No intent to offend, but it was appropriate for the characters.**

Chapter 5:_ Undoing_

_**The Near Future…**_

On the days when he felt he would lose his mind, Helaprosti took his leave of the often confining security of the Grounds, and took a walk in the untamed woods surrounding it.

On this particularly unsettling day, he perched himself on a large rock and just watched the colorful leaves swirl in the breeze.

"Maxedes…" he sighed.

"Yes?" a voice from behind him replied.

Helaprosti cautiously turned to the speaker and all of a sudden all his old, long-forgotten—or perhaps well-suppressed—feelings came rushing back to him with such a force that it nearly stole his breath.

"Maxedes? Could it really be you?" the young man asked in hope and disbelief of the redheaded figure before him. "I thought you were…I thought I had…"

"Shh," the redhead interrupted with a finger to the other's quivering lips. "There'll be no talk of such things now." Then the newcomer drew the stunned boy closer and requested, "Let me take you away from all this."

_**Back to the Show!**_

_**Monday Morning, September 28**__**th**__**, Fletcher High School…**_

They would've been foolish to think that somehow trouble wouldn't find them; a weekend of training and meditation made sure that they held no such false pretenses. Still, they hoped that it wouldn't be as bad as what they'd been made to expect.

Yet there it was, right before their very eyes: their collective worst nightmares brought to life.

The five approached the public institution that was Fletcher High School and saw the bigger, badder Haezoh Supreme have their way with whoever had the misfortune of being in their path.

One Supreme grabbed hold of a poor girl, held onto her head and proceeded to extract something from her eyes using the awful vines that grew from their heads, affectively stabbing them out, and it was hard to tell what was worse: her blood-curdling screams, or the dead silence that followed…

As if the scene weren't crazy enough, the sound of approaching police sirens just added to the chaotic air.

But the well-meaning police officers soon realized they were in way over their heads, for they were viciously and efficiently cut down by the Haezoh Supreme, and met with the same fate as that unfortunate girl…

All this madness caught the attention of the local news, and reporters and cameramen were there recording it all.

And so there, in front of all the cameras, the young heroes morphed…

"Alright, fellahs, you know what time it is!" Brad interjected. It was time for the Call. "Dalog Yodogh, unite!" Brad commanded.

"Dalog Eagle!" he continued.

"Dalog Wolf!" John chimed.

"Dalog Owl!" came Liz.

"Dalog Phoenix!" Antoinette shouted.

"Dalog Pegasus!" added Pete, which ended the roll call.

From each one's center came a glowing intricate circular pattern. And from those circular patterns emerged strips of light-enriched cloth that snaked their way around our heroes' limbs, becoming their suits, with their icons above their hearts like a badge, and the suit was topped off by their helmets, accented with weapons on their backs that they had only just begun to learn how to use.

"Bravo! Bravo! Good show!" someone heckled. The Keepers scanned the area to find the source, but the source made it easy for them by suddenly bringing himself into visibility.

The mockery continued. "Don't you all look sharp in your colorful costumes!"

"Who are you?" Brad demanded.

"You all will come to know me well. You may call me Giniz," he introduced with a chuckle, bowing graciously. He wore shiny black armor, trimmed in strips of burgundy cloth, a black cloak with burgundy inner lining, and wore a mask on his face, so even though our heroes couldn't see it, they knew he was smiling.

"Call off your men, Giniz!" Brad demanded.

"Don't be so naïve, Red Keeper. You know I'll do no such thing," Giniz replied, all humor gone from his voice.

"Alright, then. No more talk," came Brad's steely reply.

It was go time...

All around them, there were people running for cover, cops trying to regain their bearings, reporters trying to capture all the action, and to top it all off, it had started snowing. But despite all that, all seemed surprisingly still and quiet to our five heroes. All the combatants could hear was the sound of each other's breathing…

Warm breath in cold air…

The Red Keeper conjured his sword and sized up his black-armored foe. Despite the fact that Giniz was wearing a mask, he could tell that he was being ridiculed. Brad stepped forward and readied his weapon. Giniz did the same, and after a moment the dark-armored warrior broke their silence with a booming laugh.

"Attack!" he ordered, and watched as the Haezoh Supreme launched forward.

All too suddenly there came a flood of sound. The clashing of weapons, the cries of battle...

The two were locked in a spirited sword fight. The young warrior was alarmed at how skilled his opponent was; while he struggled to keep up, Giniz looked as though it were no problem at all!

At one point Giniz took a swipe at Brad's midsection, causing him to leap back and then back-flip out of the way. With inhuman speed, the masked man charged at him. Brad barely had enough time to dodge the downward slash of his Dark sword.

Giniz then followed through with a swipe at the boy's head, which he leaned back to avoid. Then Giniz quickly thrust forward with his sword, which Brad _couldn't_ avoid; the tip of the Dark sword met his midsection. But the Red Keeper _did_ manage to clasp the tip in his hands before it could penetrate, forcing him to drop his own sword.

The red-clad warrior traveled back a few steps to avoid getting run through, then in one swift movement, moved the tip away from him, kicked at Giniz' ribs and pulled the Dark sword from Giniz' hand.

Brad then attempted to side-kick Giniz again, but only got his foot swatted away. He used that momentum to deliver a spinning-heel kick to his opponent's head, but it only caught air, sailing over Giniz' ducked head.

When Brad returned to forward position, he was surprised by an uppercut, followed by a cross and then a roundhouse kick, followed by a leg-sweep, all of which connected.

The Red Keeper ended up sprawled out on the ground, reeling from all the blows delivered to his helmeted head. He barely reacted to the booted foot that threatened to crush his ribs in time.

Brad rolled out of the way and kicked himself back to his feet, then tackled the masked man as if he were on the football field, managing to ram Giniz into a tree.

Unfortunately, the position Brad was in made it easy for the masked creep to put him in a headlock. From there, Giniz proceeded to elbow Brad in the back, causing Brad's stance to falter and almost fall to his knees. But Giniz wasn't through; he began kneeing the boy through the midsection until he _did_ come to his knees…

God…That felt worse than when he got sacked by that bulldozer of a quarter-back a few games back. The Red Keeper could swear he _heard_ his ribs break!

_Jesus..._

But the assault didn't stop there.

Giniz then hefted the boy up by the waist so that his legs swung up and gave him a temporary seated position atop Giniz' shoulders. Brad realized what was about to happen; he watched enough WWE to know.

_Oh shit_, was Brad's last thought before Giniz suplexed him, sending his back crashing into the frost-hardened earth below, completely deflating his lungs…

"Stay behind me!" the Pink Keeper commanded a fellow student as she gathered enough energy and concentration to build a force field around them. The poor guy was bruised and positively shaking; Liz could feel the fright emanating from him. She would do all she could to protect him.

But in spite of how much her heart went out to the guy, she couldn't keep frustration from seeping in. For truth be told, she had just begun to gain the upper hand and was handling the Supreme when the kid got in the way.

Now here she was, pretty much a sitting duck in her force field while the Supreme assaulted it mercilessly….

_Must concentrate_, the pink-clad girl scolded herself. She willed herself to block out the guy's frightened whimpers, the clash of combat, and the chaos of the panicked populous, until there was only her breathing; she had to first make herself still before she could will anything _else_ into stillness—for that was the plan.

_Stop_, Liz wordlessly commanded of what little life still lingered in the Haezoh Supreme—and it obeyed. Only then did she drop the force field.

"Run!" she commanded the civilian as she conjured her staff, and along the side of it emerged blades becoming a halberd and in one swift movement Liz had done away with the thing's head.

Slowly the sound came back in—just in time to hear the whistling sound of a small combustible orb flying at her from above...

Nearby, the Supreme was coming at the Blue Keeper with everything it had, setting the pace with its Swords of Green energy. John was pretty sure of himself and his two axes, but those swords were none to be underestimated. He had to find a way to disarm the thing—and disarm he did!

John took the opportunity presented to him and swung one of his axes—cutting off one of the Supreme's arms! The creature swung its other arm, which John blocked with his forearm, and in the same motion, sheathed the axe in his other hand, then reached out with his free hand and touched the Supreme.

Our blue-clad hero smiled as he back-flipped away from the one-armed creature and transformed into a navy blue version of the super-sized faceless being, brandishing his own pair of Swords—of glowing _Blue_ energy.

John couldn't get over how weird it was to "see" from the Haezoh point of view; the damn things had no eyes! They actually see through very high and very low pitched sound. So John could actually see the Supreme before him _beyond_ clearly.

Weird...

He then dropped the Supreme form choosing only to keep the swords, and went at the one-armed Supreme again. John crossed his arms in front of him as he charged, and uncrossed them in an attempt to cut the Haezoh Supreme in two through the midsection, but the one-armed Supreme leapt into the air, bouncing off of John's shoulder and landing behind him.

One-armed as it was, the Supreme was still quite formidable, launching back at John with his single Sword of Green energy…

The one-armed creature made a downward swipe at the Blue Keeper's head with its sword, which he dodged. Without missing a beat, the Supreme followed through with a spinning-heel kick, which caught him at the side of the head. Then the Supreme followed that up with a forward kick to John's solar plexus.

The boy stumbled back. The monster quickly closed the distance and thrust forward with its single sword, which John parried, and in the same motion spun and swung his other sword at the thing's head, only to find that no connection was made because the Blue Energy blade was caught—by the thing's vine-dreads! And what's more, the vine-dreads were climbing up the blue blade, threatening to claim John's arm along with a burning sensation characteristic with acid!

"Ah! Fuck!" John wailed and tried to pull his arm free by bracing his foot against the Supreme—only to find that his foot was sinking _into_ it! Then his entire leg! Then most of his _right side!_

Quicksand. The one state John _couldn't_ mimic. Why the hell had he dropped the Haezoh form?

"Aaaaaahh!" John screamed as he realized what was happening. His mind flashed back to what happened to Antoinette in their first run-in with the Haezoh and realized he couldn't free himself the way she did.

But before he could think too deeply that this may be how he dies, there came a flash of blue-white which completely encapsulated the Supreme—including the part of him that was ensnared within it.

Snug.

Before John could fully process that whatever he was partially encased in was really frigging cold, there came a padding of feet, and a hell of a battle cry before a dark figure crashed through it.

The impact knocked him flat on his ass.

"Hey, babe," came an amused female voice. "I thought you were attached to _me!_" the Black Keeper joked as she extended her hand to him. He accepted it gratefully.

"Thanks, Nette. I thought I was a goner for a second," John admitted, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet by his girlfriend. In spite of his seared right arm, he embraced her tightly.

"Anytime, hun," the Black Keeper pledged, returning his embrace. God, he wished he could kiss her! Stupid helmets...

"Later, sexy," he teased, finally releasing her and giving her backside a playful smack. She giggled and ran off.

John smiled after her and then turned his attention to Brad; perhaps he should help Brad even the odds a little bit...

Meanwhile, still elsewhere, all Pete knew was the pain of the dagger as it pierced the muscle above his right armpit, and he felt himself being pinned to a tree like a thumbtack.

Struggling to free himself was beyond painful, but staying there wasn't an option, for now he was a sitting duck.

Pete had let that thing get the better of him and now he was pinned up on a tree. Tree...That's it! Here's to hoping he can actually glinch wood…

The Green Keeper placed his gloved left hand flat against the bark and turned his hand to wood, then transformed his wooden hand into a thick wooden spire, which he plunged into the Supreme's core.

He managed to place a couple fingers on his other hand against the tree, and then touched his left arm with them, transferring more wood to it, widening the spire within the Supreme.

Needless to say, the Supreme wasn't moving much after that. Unfortunately, the thing's leaf dagger still had him pinned to the tree.

The Green warrior un-glinched his left arm which was holding the "dead" creature in a standing position. As a result the Supreme had slumped down to its knees, which pulled the leaf dagger down into a new angle which hurt like no other.

"Ah, God!" the green warrior gasped as he grabbed the Supreme's hand and attempted to pull out the dagger. "Aaaaaaaaaahhh!" he screamed out as he gave the thing a mighty tug, the stubborn jagged blade finally came free and slumped to his knees…

In another area, Antoinette thrust one of her sais at the Supreme's head, but it pierced nothing but air, for the slick beast had dodged. The oversized thing then grabbed onto Antoinette's extended arm with one hand and sent its other elbow into her gut, then, with that same arm, the creature pulled down the back of her head throwing her over him.

"Ow," Antoinette groaned as her backside connected hard with the concrete sidewalk. But she quickly recovered, rolling onto all fours and sweeping the legs from under the super-sized Haezoh. Then when it fell to the ground, she dropped her heel hard into its non-face, and quickly scrambled to her feet.

The Supreme kick-spun itself back to its feet and shook its head. The girl back-flipped to put some distance between them.

The creature, now recovered, launched those ominous thorny vines that were now twice as thick—and twice as thorny—at her head. The Black Keeper batted it away, but the Supreme was charging her, brandishing one of those leaf daggers that were attached to the top of their hands.

She quickly flipped over the Supreme's head but the creature had really good reflexes, quickly reaching up to cut at her thigh, forcing her to crash land…

_**The Grounds…**_

Helaprosti was having a difficult time staying at the Grounds; as the damage to his Keepers started to mount, the more powerful the urge to jump in. And when Antoinette—already his favorite—crash-landed after being cut out of the air, it took everything in him to not sail in and chop that faceless thing into mince meat.

But he knew this was their rite of passage—as it's always been…

So with great difficulty he stayed put at the Library and monitored the raging battle on the screen.

But he pledged to himself that there'll be no more of this sitting on his hands from here on out...

_**Back to the Fight…**_

Before Antoinette could fully process the pain she was in, the Supreme had straddled her, and stabbed downwards with its leaf dagger.

The girl had to drop her sais and grasp the dagger to keep it from penetrating her neck. But because it was twice its usual size, laid flat atop the thing's hand and had an irregular shape, grasping it was no easy task. As a result, it cut her palms—and slid that much closer to her neck...

She needed to get this thing off of her—and she knew just how.

_Lightning!_ she mentally invoked, and from her visor streamed lightning straight to the non-face of the monster, successfully blasting it off of her. Then she rerouted the lightning to her hands and picked up her sais, electrifying them. She then launched them towards the Supreme that was beginning to right itself, lodging in the thing's chest.

The Supreme began to quake as the electricity coursed through it. She summoned water and designated it to one hand, then clasped both hands together and aimed them at her adversary.

"Ready, aim, fire!" she quipped as she sent a stream of electrified water at the already spasmodic Supreme, and watched with gratification as it finally exploded with a loud _**BOOOM!**_

_**Meanwhile…**_

Liz re-awoke realizing that she was wet and extremely cold.

"Am I dead?" she asked herself as she tried to clear her vision. Then sound started flooding back in, and after some thought she realized that the sounds she was hearing were that of battle.

The fight was still on, which _sucked_, but also meant that she was still alive.

She sat up with some difficulty to better take in the chaos around her and realized that she had landed in a pile of snow. Goodness knows how long she was laying there. But the snow seemed to help with her scorched back.

Amid the confusion she saw a green figure zig-zagging toward her.

"Liz! Are you okay?" Pete asked frantically once he'd reached her side.

"Other than the fact that I feel like I fell asleep on a lava bed? Peachy," Liz replied, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet.

"Whoa, Petey! What happened to _you?_" Liz redirected, observing the bleeding hole just under Pete's shoulder.

"I had a run-in with a really sharp leaf," Pete replied flatly.

_**BOOOM!**_

They both jumped at the sound of the explosion.

"What the hell was that?" Liz bellowed, still a bit shaky with her own explosive encounter. They narrowed the sound down to the area not far from Antoinette.

"Nette!" they both cried out and rushed to where she was sitting bleeding on the ground.

"What happened?" Pete asked, looking over the charred bits of decayed flesh.

Breathing heavily, the Black Keeper replied, "He cut my leg, so I blew him back to hell."

"Roar! Remind me to never get on _your_ bad side!" Pete joked as he and Liz carefully helped Antoinette to her feet.

"Aww, Petey, you know I love you!" Antoinette teased, causing the boy to blush under his helmet.

"Don't we all look a lovely mess!" Liz chirped, marking the various shades of red they all sported. That comment garnered a hearty laugh from all three. But the shouts of battle cut their laughter short as they realized that Brad and John were still in it with Giniz…

Before Brad could fully recover from the pain that reverberated through his very _marrow_, he felt himself being hoisted back into the air, to be once again slammed back to earth.

Giniz re-conjured his Dark sword, poised to strike. But before he could act he felt a tap at his shoulder and turned around to acknowledge it. Mistake.

Once turned, there would be a blue-gloved fist ready to rock his jaw.

"Hello," the blue figure greeted before following through with a cross which caused Giniz to stumble back a few steps, nearly tripping over Brad.

"Yo, Brad! Wake up!" John demanded.

"Stop...yelling..." Brad mumbled. "Just lemme close my eyes for one second..." he said, allowing his eyes to flutter beneath his helmet. But he was startled back into wakefulness at the sounds of John's pained screams.

"Stop yelling!" Brad rebuked, his own voice ringing through his head. "Ah," he groaned as he pulled himself to his feet.

Giniz had John's arms pulled straight behind him and that was when he saw the Blue Keepers burnt arm.

"Holy shit, John!" Brad exclaimed.

"You're welcome," John replied through clenched teeth.

"Thanks," the Red Keeper added almost as an afterthought as he reclaimed his sword and put it in Rifle Mode.

But he couldn't get a clear shot now that John had wrestled out of Giniz' hold and was now engaging him in hand-to-hand—and foot—combat. _Shit!_

"Giniz!" the Red Keeper called, aiming his gun. Giniz quickly compensated, pulling John in front of him as a shield.

"Go on, Red Keeper!" the masked man taunted, "Save me the trouble!"

John took the opportunity Giniz' jabbering brought to send his elbow into Giniz' armored gut and then threw the Dark Warrior over his shoulder.

With inhuman speed, Giniz kicked himself to his feet and turned to face John commending, "You're a clever one, aren't you."

Brad took this opportunity to pull the trigger, but the bullets stopped in midair and simply dropped moments before impact!

_Holy shit!_ both boys thought.

Giniz laughed at the novice warriors and brushed off his cloak. "We will meet again, Keepers!" Giniz promised, then disappeared in a tornado of burgundy silk, leaving our five heroes alone with the scattered remains of the Haezoh.

That battle left them feeling worn; they were exhausted and battered. Liz sneezed.

Now that the smoke had cleared, the reporters and cameramen dared to venture out to the colorful warriors seemingly closing in on them, and that, in spite of the battle they had just undergone, really freaked them out. So they teleported away, leaving the reporters to make of the madness whatever they wished…

_**It made no sense to go on as if the day were normal. Going back to the school was not an option. Besides, in light of recent events, school might be closed for the day. Maybe forever! So instead, the teenagers went to the only place they felt safe at the moment: the Grounds. Back to an anxious Helaprosti.**_

They each gave themselves over to their mentor's tending, battered and bloody, and feeling like hell. The teens were so shaken that they couldn't even comment on how it felt to morph for the first time; that surge of power and strength that came over them…They just wanted to wait for everything to spin back to normal.

"It will only get worse from here, Keepers," Helaprosti assured, but somehow they already knew that—they just didn't want to hear it out loud. And they especially didn't want to think about what their parents would say when they went home…

"My mom is just gonna bust a blood vassal, she's so gonna freak," Liz fretted. Most of the team expressed similar concerns; John sat quiet.

Indeed, the teens hadn't given much thought to what they'd do if their parents ever found out. But now that the media was involved, there was little to no chance that their parents would stay in the dark for long. Needless to say, none of them were in any real rush to go home.

"Don't think about that now," Helaprosti suggested. "Rest and give yourselves time to heal." _The worst is yet to come._

Once the others had left for bed, Helaprosti began his sword training, finding it easier to think this way.

The White Keeper settled on a locale, a temple. He missed the calm of such a place.

This backdrop was ripped right from memory. Maybe this way he could find that elusive sense of peace.

Yes, even statues of flesh such as himself needed to feel a sense of wellbeing.

There was no resolve without a steady heart. One that didn't leap where most would—or should…

One that was trained to be detached—a skill he sadly hadn't fully mastered even after all these years.

But if he _appeared_ so…If he could appear as if his heart was absent when lives needed to be risked, maybe just maybe he could get through this.

Wellbeing…there was something to be said about the solitary pursuit of it all…

Push that terribly human organ away. Be like stone.

People will suffer, and people will die. Stick always to the facts.

_Do as you're told and you'll do fine at this, heart be damned…_

With every movement, something new would resurface. His past. His present. His uncertain future—and with every sword slash he mercilessly cut them away.

He had to keep it together. That was his job…

_**Tuesday, the Arctic Palace...**_

Ptep returned to find his palace back to its original glorious state, as promised. He took a moment to get reacquainted with the rooms and corridors.

All at once he was reminded of Chantri, for, for a brief, shining moment, this was her home as well. He wanted his beloved wife back. He couldn't accept the fact that she was dead. Something as simple as an arrow shouldn't have killed her. She was murdered, and he knew by whom.

Now he could kill two birds with one stone…

Without realizing it, he had made it to the Throne Room and found himself in his father's throne. "Lord gil-Matri, some guests to see you," Giniz announced.

"Thank you, General Giniz. Send them in," Ptep consented.

"These four gentlemen have come to take you up on your offer, Lord gil-Matri. I present to you Qiqofu, military and political specialist; Siddhartha, expert in the sciences; Lucid, prominent merchant in the Intergalactic Black Market; and Prince Ceas, son of Emperor Staida, heir apparent to the Rebirth Dynasty.

Once Giniz' introductions were completed, there was a silence. Ptep eyed the four expectantly for a while and then spoke.

"What, no offerings of goodwill, or professions of loyalty?" When no replies came, he muttered to himself, "I see."

"I suppose you all still think me a joke, and that the Great Being is my only shred of credibility, yes?" Ptep asked as he stepped down from the throne and approached the four men that were lined up before him. "Well I assure you, gentlemen, that I have a plan of my own and a means of executing it. But perhaps one or two of you require a bit more convincing, yes?" Ptep enquired as he surveyed the four men, then locked eyes with one of them.

"Why, I remember you! _You_ thought I was _particularly_ funny!" Ptep recounted with an amiable smile as he stood before the man introduced as the Prince. "Still feel like laughing?" Ptep asked the smirking man. Ptep then promptly dropped his friendly smile and glared at the smug Prince, his attractive human appearance subsiding to reveal disturbing snake-like features—and at that moment the man showed fear.

Ptep's eyes glowed silver, which immobilized the fear-stricken man. He grinned to reveal his newly unsheathed fangs and grabbed the petrified man by the neck and posed, "How about now?" before violently biting into him.

The man's eyes opened wide in surprise and agony, and he gasped as he struggled to hold on to his life—and his soul. But there was no use, for in moments the man's eyes were drained of all color, his skin turned pallid to match.

There was nothing more for the man to offer so Ptep let him fall, and followed his descent with fascination. Ptep then reassumed his former appearance and looked up at the horror-stricken faces of the remaining three with a childish sparkle in his eyes and said, "Do not cross me. Do not underestimate me. Or you shall meet his same fate," then he wiped away some of the blood that remained on his lips with his thumb and sucked it clean.

_**Elsewhere…**_

Brad offered everyone a ride home. In spite of the fact that they all knew they could just teleport, no one declined. So they all teleported back to the school where Brad's car was still parked, and one by one allowed Brad to drop them home.

_**The Diamond Residence…**_

"Hey, mom. Hey, dad," Pete greeted, closing the front door behind him. Brad's car could be heard peeling out in the distance.

"Hey, Petey! How come you didn't ask Brad to come in?"

"Mom, he has his own home to go to," Pete replied flatly. If he was glad to get home before, all that vanished.

"Wow, son! We didn't know you had that kind of fight in you! I guess Brad is finally rubbing off on you!" Pete's father cheered, clapping him on his still-sore shoulder. Evidently they had seen the news…

"One Brad is enough, dad," Pete replied with a sneer, shaking off his father's arm.

God, it seemed like ever since that day Brad stepped in to keep him from getting his ass kicked, Brad's become their favorite new son. He seemed like the ideal kid; the good-looking, popular, jock...

Whatever...

Pete rotated his neck from side to side and stretched his arms, wincing a bit at his shoulder. The wound was sealed and was healing, but it still hurt.

"Mom. Dad. I'm really tired. I'm just gonna go to bed."

He was tired. Nothing new there.

But despite how his body ached, and demanded rest, he couldn't shut his _mind_ off; he had achieved the most amazing position of super-hero and it _still_ wasn't enough. It'll never be enough...

He couldn't stay there a minute longer, this was a fact. He knew of one place, at least, where he would be appreciated.

He leapt out of bed, quickly packed a suitcase, and announced to his parents on his way out, "Mom. Dad. I'm leaving."

_**The St. Arch Residence…**_

The young man pulled into his driveway turned off his ignition, stepped out of his car and went into his house, to be greeted by a very anxious mother and father. _Oh, boy. Here we go._

"Brad, what have you gotten yourself into?" asked Brad's father with concern and a tinge of anger. Brad explained everything from the football field on down.

"We just had to help, pop! Helaprosti was getting clobbered!" Brad exclaimed.

"And this was what you were doing on Friday night? Fighting monsters?" Mr. St. Arch continued.

Averting his eyes, Brad answered, "Yes, sir."

"And this Hela-whatever character is?" the man pressed.

"Helaprosti, pop. He's the one that introduced us to our powers," Brad replied.

"And told you that you needed to fight those creatures?"

Brad paused before answering.

"Yes."

"Well, that's a job for the police!" the older man argued.

"Pop, you saw what happened! The cops are in way over their heads!" Brad rebutted.

"So, five teenagers have to risk their lives because it's all of a sudden their job?"

Brad looked his father squarely in the eyes and responded, "Yes."

_**The Campbell Residence…**_

"God, Antoinette! We moved from the city to get _away_ from the violence!" her father bellowed.

"I know, daddy," Antoinette replied as she took her coat off and hung it in the closet by the door.

"The fighting everyday at school, the constant suspensions!" her father continued, now pacing.

"I know, daddy," Antoinette answered, pulling off her high-heeled boots.

"How are you wearing those? There must be six inches of snow out there!" her father deviated.

"Oh, daddy, you know I ride with Brad now," Antoinette answered calmly as she walked into the living room. Back on track, her father continued, "Now you're fighting monsters!"

"Daddy, mind your heart. Have a seat," Antoinette directed. Her father sighed and conceded.

"I just don't want anything to happen to you. And ever since your mother died..." he explained, but was cut off when Antoinette said, "Yes, daddy. Would you like some tea?" and popped up out of her seat to mask her discomfort and get some before her father could answer.

She took her sweet time making the two cups, then offered her father a mug, and reclaimed her seat.

"Look, daddy. I've assessed all the risks and I accept them. I _want_ to do this, daddy. I have to," she argued. "We were chosen for a reason. If we don't take on this responsibility, who will?"

"Daddy, please trust me. I feel this is something I'm meant to do," she delivered, looking her father squarely in the eyes.

_**Meanwhile, at the Jude Residence…**_

_Ah-choo! _Ah crap, Liz was getting a cold. Just dandy. She closed the door behind her and stepped inside.

"Bless you!" came her mother's voice from the dining room, which startled the living daylights out of the girl.

"ay dios mio!, you scared me!" she exclaimed, holding a hand over her heart. "How come you're not at work?"

Shutting off the TV, Liz's mother countered, "How come you're not at school?"

Walking over and giving her mother a kiss on the cheek, Liz replied, "Wasn't safe."

"So after you, Brad and the others fought those creatures, where did you go?" she asked sternly.

"Ma..." Liz began, but her mother wasn't finished.

"When were you gonna tell me?" Ms. Jude pressed. "When were you gonna tell me that your friends fight monsters as an extracurricular activity? And what _were_ those things anyway?"

Liz was overwhelmed; all these questions made her feel like she was on trial.

_Ah-choo!_

"Salúd," her mother offered as she gave Liz a napkin from off the table.

"Haezoh," Liz said, after she blew her nose.

"What?" the woman asked.

"The monsters we were fighting are called the Haezoh," the girl explained, pulling up a chair.

"And how do you know this?" her mother pressed.

"Our mentor, Helaprosti, briefed us," Liz replied, feeling very much like a criminal being interrogated in one of those cop shows.

"Hela...as in 'Helen'?" the woman realized, getting very worked up.

"Ma, relax! I'll tell you everything…"

_**Meanwhile at the Houlihan Residence…**_

John opened the front door to his house to once again be greeted by the pungent stench of dirty clothes, garbage and sex.

_God, when was this place getting cleaned?_ he wondered. But John had a feeling that even if this place were cleaned _today_, the stench would still linger for weeks.

"Oo, there's our little super hero!" the scantily clad, live-in skank squealed as she made her way over to John to give him a hug. John recoiled in disgust. What gave this hooch the impression that she could claim him? Then he chuckled once he realized something; she had seen the news! He didn't realize she watched anything other than soaps!

"The fuckin' little fag!" came his father's thunderous voice, dashing away John's moment of amusement.

"What?" John sputtered.

"I know I didn't raise no fuckin' fairy!" John's father continued, shoving him. "Yet there you are, on national fuckin' television in some goddamn tights!"

_Oo..._John clenched his fists and breathed heavily. He was two seconds away from drop-kicking this mother fucker in the throat.

"First of all, _Dan,_" John emphasized. "In order to _raise_ someone, you'd have to actually give more than two shits."

"Don't you fuckin' talk to me like that, you little..." Dan growled, rearing his fist back but John just put up his hand—and the man actually paused! Ha! The boy continued.

"And second of all, _Dan_, I had no say in what my suit would look like," John delivered with hate radiating from his eyes. With great effort, John brought his hand back down to his side, and turned to go to his room.

"I'm not through with you, boy!" the gruff man demanded.

"But I'm through with _you, Dan,_" John replied and made his way up the stairs to his room.

Moments later he reemerged with a duffle bag in hand as if that bag was _always_ on standby. He made his way down the stairs and had his hand on the doorknob of the front door, when he heard the little trick weep, "Oh, Dan, don't let him leave!"

"Don't worry baby-doll," John's father reassured. "The little fag ain't got no place to go."

Not bothering to turn around, John calmly replied, "Go to hell," and walked through the door letting it slam shut behind him.

"Get back here, you ungrateful bastard!" Dan barked, jetting for the door, but by the time he opened it, John was gone.

_**Wednesday...**_

_**Fresh meat. The new hot topic. You couldn't switch on a TV without hearing someone trying to dig their claws into the freshman team. They ceased to be people and overnight became public property. **_

_**It didn't feel good to switch on the TV in hopes of getting away from reality and only succeed at hearing yourself being referred to as a freak. But how could our heroes set the record straight when they themselves lacked all the information? **_

_**Because the recent burst of Haezoh activity was unexplained and unpredictable, schools and office buildings county-wide would be closed until further notice. **_

_**So for now our colorful heroes were obligated to protect society—but not to participate in it…**_

Until further notice...That could mean days or even weeks! No school. No football practice. Nothing to fix. Brad was not just going to sit at home and rot, and that last tussle with Giniz made him realize that he had so much more work to do. Training sounded like the best course of action. Surely the others must feel the same way he did…

Plastered on every channel were pre-battle pictures of the five, blazed across the screen like mug shots.

"Who are these children who so readily take on those creatures? Are they friend or foe?" the anchorman mused.

God, do they really have to wonder? Those Haezoh-creeps were _killing_ people! John and the others **stopped** them! It was pretty damn clear to _him!_

John switched off the TV in disgust. He could stand to punch something...

Who would've thought that seeing yourself on TV would be so weird? It was so surreal watching yourself. And not just as a passer-by, but as the focus.

_So __**that's**__ what morphing looked like...God, look at that...did they have to catch every gory detail?_

But it didn't end with the battle, it was what they were saying; these people were speaking about them as if _they_ were the monsters! Antoinette had to make a point to suggest to Helaprosti that they make some kind of public address.

This was gonna get very hairy,very fast...

Their first morphed battle, wow...it was...scary...yeah, that was the word. Scary.

Going into it they had not intention of losing, but naively she thought they would just take a couple hits, fall to the ground a couple times, beat the bad guy and watch him leave with his tail between his legs until next time. But no. Instead, the bad guys walloped them good before going down.

Hands down, they had a long way to go in their training. They needed decisive victories not victories by the skin of their teeth...

_**Surely enough, they all felt like training, and after calling each other to confirm, they were all back on the Grounds, their safe haven. **_

_**On that day, the Keepers focused on learning theirs, as well as each others', weapons. On the following day they concentrated on their individual weapons. On Friday, they worked with more simulations, and on Saturday it was strategy and planning in the Library. **_

_**All these events took all day and they could all feel themselves improving, but they still welcomed Sunday with open arms…**_

_**The Commons...**_

He liked watching her dance.

Whenever Antoinette stumbled upon a song she loved, she'd get up and dance uninhibited no matter who was around. She'd try to include him in her dance, but he could never really keep up. Besides, he'd much rather watch her sway rather than intrude on her rhythm.

John smiled to himself in full appreciation of Antoinette grooving to whatever she was listening to on her CD player. When she noticed his eyes upon her, she began to dance more seductively, making her way towards him.

Flashing John a naughty grin, she sat crossways on his lap and tucked one of her earphones in his ear, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly on the lips.

He took the opportunity to let his eyes sweep over the strong features of her face and smiled, bringing her in closer. He kissed his girlfriend again.

His girlfriend...he liked that.

_**Meanwhile at the Arctic Palace…**_

"So, Lord gil-Matri, what is our first order of business?" Qiqofu enquired, magically summoning a quill, ink and scroll which all floated in the air ready to take notes.

"We shall approach this with finesse. I know that you are anxious for mayhem, Qiqofu," Ptep replied. Qiqofu grinned to himself, for Ptep was right.

"Then what is your plan, Lord gil-Matri?" Qiqofu asked, curiosity piqued.

"I plan to destroy the Keepers from the inside out. Giniz knows what to do." He and Giniz then exchanged knowing glances before the general left the vicinity.

_**Monday...**_

_**Our five heroes thought it best to drive to school instead of teleport that first day back—for the Mayor encouraged the citizens of Chestnut to start returning to their normal lives. **_

_**They didn't want to draw too much attention to themselves. Unfortunately, that little plan didn't work, for they got nothing but eyes as they crossed the parking lot to the school building, and crowds parted like the Red Sea for them in the halls. **_

_**Brad was accustomed to feeling like a God on campus, but this was just straight-up weird! The others felt just as uncomfortable. **_

_**It was going to be a long day…**_

_**Lunch...**_

"A moment of silence for the students who fell to the hands of those creatures," the principle's voice said over the loudspeaker. The cafeteria fell eerily quiet. It was just too damn creepy.

"God, they're staring at us," Liz whispered to the others at their usual table.

"Shh, show some respect!" a student nearby harshly whispered to her.

"Excuse you?" Liz and Antoinette bellowed in unison.

"Ladies!" Brad interceded with his own loud whisper. The girls fumed but turned back to their table.

"Yeah, thought so," the kid continued. Now it was Brad's turn to blow up.

"Hey, look, buddy! Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Brad, dude, relax!" Pete reprimanded, trying to calm him.

"Yeah, man! He's just trying to get a rise out of you," John added as they both tried to hold Brad back.

"No!" Brad barked defiantly, shaking the two off. "We feel bad about what happened too! How dare you fucking think that we don't?" Brad protested, tears welling up in spite of himself.

"Brad!" John called out as he and Pete grabbed onto him.

"Let's get him out of here," Antoinette suggested. But even as the group dragged him out of the cafeteria, Brad still protested, "We tried to stop those creatures! We _tried_ to save those kids! **We TRIED, goddammit!**"

Once they were fully out of the cafeteria, still in full view of the hushed student body through the plate glass, Brad broke down. He shook the other boys off and punched a nearby wall, leaving a prominent dent. He then leaned against the wall, his body rocking with silent tears.

Liz slid in between Brad and the wall and pulled him into an embrace. Antoinette rested a hand lightly on Brad's arm. The boy opened his arm out to make room for her, and all three stood there, holding each other. Pete rested a comforting hand on Brad's back.

John stood off to the side and glared at the stunned onlookers.

"I'm going outside," John announced after a while and stepped passed them to the school's side doors. The others followed suit, and ended up in the bleachers.

Meanwhile a stunned student body looked on still silent even after the Principle declared the moment of silence over…

_**After School, Football Field…**_

"Man, you don't even know how good it is to see you guys!" Brad cheered as he walked over to some of his teammates. "I'm glad to see all of you are okay, despite everything that's been happening," Brad added on a serious note. "Everyone _is okay_, right?" Brad asked, picking up tense vibes from the guys.

Brad received a chorus of grumbled "yeahs" and "sures" in reply.

The guys looked tentatively at each other as if there was something potentially uncomfortable that needed to be said, but no one was willing to say it. _Ten bucks says it has something to do with me_, Brad scoffed to himself.

"I hate to have to break it to you, man," one teammate piped up with an exaggerated pained look on his face, "But you're no longer Captain."

And…there goes the other shoe…

"W-what?" Brad sputtered. "Look, fellahs, no matter what, I'm still a member of this team. Nothing's gonna get in the way of that!" Brad delivered pleadingly to anyone in earshot. "I've never let you down before..."

"About that," that guy cut in, placing a hand on Brad's shoulder. Brad scowled at the hand, then back up at the guy. Clearing his throat and removing his hand, the kid continued. "You're not on the team anymore either, man. Sorry."

"The hell you are, Kyle!" Brad roared, and stormed deeper into the field to confront the coach.

"Coach, what's this I hear about me not being on the team anymore? Cause I've worked my butt off for this team, and I was a good Captain, wasn't I, Coach?" Brad argued, trying his best to stay under control.

"Yes, you were," the coach confirmed.

"Well, who's the new Captain?" Brad enquired, breathing heavily now.

"The team decided Kyle was..."

"Kyle?" Brad bellowed. "You made _Kyle_ Captain?" Brad said, trying to keep his voice volume in check.

"I had to do what was best for the team," coach VanGundy calmly reasoned.

"And _Kyle_ is what's best for the team? _Kyle_, Coach? He couldn't find his way out of a cardboard box, let alone lead a team!" Brad blasted, then calmed himself and continued.

"Well, why am I not even on the team?" Brad asked, holding his downcast head and closing his eyes.

"We were afraid that your new, eh-hem..._abilities _would jeopardize our eligibility to compete, and that you might pose a danger to the other teams," the coach explained.

Raising exhausted eyes to the coach, Brad rebutted quietly, "Well, unless they replace their players with robots, alien or zombies, they don't have anything to worry about." But it was pointless to argue further, Brad knew. Plus the fight had gone out of him.

He turned to go.

As he walked passed Kyle, he heard him say lamely, "I'm sorry, bro."

Brad didn't know—or care—if Kyle was being sincere, but after a couple of steps, Brad stopped, turned around and replied, "Well, _bro, _it looks like you finally got what you wanted: to be Captain, and me off the team. Congratulations," and finished it with a bow, then continued off the field.

The coach's voice could be heard shouting after Brad saying, "It was the school board's idea, Brad!" But Brad just raised his helmet and gave it a shake 'goodbye', and let it fall to the turf just before he teleported out.

_**Back at the Grounds...**_

"You! You bastard!" Brad seethed, marching up to Helaprosti and grabbing him by his designer white shirt. "Ever since you came along our lives have been shit!" the boy continued and gave Helaprosti a shake. "Now everybody avoids us like the plague!"

The others looked from Brad to Helaprosti and back again, not knowing what to do.

Helaprosti let Brad vent a moment longer before rationalizing, "You are doing to me _now_ what your peers do to _you_." With that, Brad slowly loosened his grip, realizing how foolish he looked.

"I already told you why you were chosen: for your abilities. I cannot help that your peers react towards you the way they do, for such abilities are uncommon on this planet." Brad calmed down further as Helaprosti's logic sank in.

"Furthermore, none of this was up to me. I am just as much a victim as you," Helaprosti confided, displaying uncertainty only for a brief moment. "You just have to make the best of it."

Helaprosti straightened his shirt, squared his shoulders and stated, "Whining is useless. You're too old for such foolishness. Grow a backbone," then posed to the others, "Now, let's get back to work."

_Later…_

"Is there a particular reason you're looking at me like that, Antoinette?" Helaprosti posed, locking one of many antique file cabinets in the library, without ever looking up at the girl.

"Well, hello to you, too," Antoinette replied, letting herself in. Yes, she had been staring, but could she really be blamed?

"Could you push that button on the console for me, please?" the young man requested, reshelving some books, back still turned to her.

Obligingly she did as asked and the sturdy-looking canvas screen came to life, displaying the last active view, a huge stream of data.

"You know what? I'm just gonna come right out with it. I think it's royally messed up that you asked me to keep such a big secret. That's not cool," Antoinette stated.

"That's understandable," Helaprosti offered, finally looking at her. He expected such a confrontation eventually. "Sit with me," he requested, gesturing to the chair at the console's desk.

The girl sat, and Helaprosti took his place leaning over her to operate the console.

"Do you see all this?" the boy indicated, touching the slate-like panel directly under the screen.

"What is it?" Antoinette asked looking up at all the free-flowing information.

"This is the Grounds' database, chronicling all the goings-on, as local and mundane as the upkeep of the Grounds itself, to the otherworldly," he explained, navigating the system to display frame after frame of information, and not all of it in English.

"Like the supernatural occurrences of late, such as the recent Haezoh attacks, and your power manifestations," he clarified.

"Why are you telling me all this?" the girl asked shakily, finally looking up at her strange new mentor.

"Because, domma, I am as desperate as you to keep that vision from coming to pass," he supplied. "I trust that you will help me do whatever it takes to deny Ptep a victory. And sadly, Antoinette, it requires the utmost secrecy."

The girl suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"It brings me no joy to burden you like this, but I find in you a kindred spirit, and I cannot do this alone," Helaprosti unloaded, looking the girl squarely in the face. "Please say you will help me, Antoinette."

The girl nodded, looking as if she'd burst into tears.

"Thank you," he delivered, offering a practiced comforting smile. "You don't know how much this means to me."

_**Friday, After School...**_

"Johnny, Johnny, wow. How we've grown!" one of John's former friends taunted as they spotted him in the emptying hall. Unfortunately, John had to get past them to get to where he was going.

"Yeah, he dropped us to be a freak of a nature with _them!_" jerk #2 added.

John was _not_ a freak of nature, nor were his friends. But he'll let that slide, for he already knew they were idiots.

"Move," John demanded.

Raising their hands in mock surrender, they did. But John didn't get more than two steps before the taunting started again.

"I see you finally got with that little black bitch. I bet she gives fantastic..."

John wouldn't let the asshole finish that sentence, burying his fist in the piece of shit's nose.

The other one had jumped on his back, and in moments the kids in the hall were shouting "fight!" which alerted the security guards. By the time they got on the scene, it was an all-out brawl.

So it was back in detention hall again…

"Ah, Mr. Houlihan. I see we're up to our old tricks!" said the proctor who was very familiar with John as he took his usual seat at the back.

"Damn! Nette's gonna kill me!" John muttered mournfully to himself, touching the developing knot on the side of is head.

"Oo, does weettle Johnny fear the wrath of his _girlfwend?_" the loser whose nose was _spared_ teased.

"One more word about her and your head is going through that desk," John warned which shut the idiot right up.

John rested his cheek on the cold wooden desk and let his arms swing. _Back with the losers again._

He sighed and decided to pass the time by people watching. He spotted one dude pick his nose and then wipe that finger on one of the metal legs of his desk. _That is just nasty..._

He saw his idiot ex-friends shooting spitballs at the unfortunate kids in front of them, then act innocent when they turned around. _I can't believe I used to hang out with those guys! Geez, what was I smoking? _

And he saw a guy with blue shoulder-length hair, rocking out to whatever was on his CD player, and playing air drums with his drumsticks.

At one point, the blue-haired guy _really_ got into his music. Now John was really curious.

Something told him to get up and sit at the desk next to the boy, and he waited a little before tapping him. The guy jumped.

"Sorry, man," John apologized. "I was just over there wondering what you were rockin' out to."

"You probably wouldn't like it," the boy said.

"Try me," John challenged.

The boy shrugged and replied, "Metallica."

John looked at the kid like he was growing a second head out of his neck.

"Dude, I _love_ Metallica. Who doesn't?"

"You'd be surprised," the boy answered. "Wanna hear?"

"Sure," John agreed. The kid then pulled one side of his huge headphones free of the electric tape John hadn't noticed was holding it together, and offered it to him. The boy then looked slightly embarrassed and explained, "They've been broken for a while now."

"Dude, you need new headphones," John advised, shaking his head before taking the side of the big DJ-issue headphones.

"No way, man! These are my favorite!" the blue-haired boy protested, looking slightly put off. John snorted. So did the boy, then he started the track.

"Yo! 'Enter Sandman! This is my song!" John cheered and they both bobbed their heads in unison. The blue-haired kid proceeded to play one-handed air-drums, while John opted for one-handed air-guitar.

After listening to the song two more times, the blue-haired boy spoke, "Dude, they so need to bring back the 80's."

"Okay, _random, _but agreed," John nodded.

"I'm Marc, by the way. Marc with a 'C'," the boy introduced, offering his hand for a shake.

"I'm John with an 'H'," John joked, shaking Marc's hand.

The blue-haired boy chuckled, "Dude, that was so lame"

John laughed, releasing the boy's hand, "You're right."

"Eh-hem, gentlemen. Need I remind you, you are in detention?" the proctor snapped.

"Sorry," they both groaned.

Satisfied, the prickly woman returned to her paper.

"So, what are you in for?" John asked.

"Remember that big flaming cock that was spray painted on the side of the principle's car?"

"That was _you?_" John howled.

"Boys! If I have to tell you again," the proctor interjected.

"Sorry, sorry," Marc hastily offered.

"Dude, that was classic!" one of the ex-friends congratulated. The vandal beamed. John snickered. What? It was funny!

They spent the rest of the time (quietly) talking about music and life. Marc's band and John's girlfriend, until the proctor announced it was time to go.

"Oh, word? I didn't notice!" Marc said.

"Me neither," John admitted.

"Look, you gotta come see us play!" Marc requested, and rummaged through his messenger bag to produce a crunched up flyer. He smoothed it out on the desk and handed it to John. "Bring friends," he encouraged.

John gave the flyer a once-over. "The Poison Runaways," John read to himself. "Sure, I'll be there," he promised, and they went their separate ways.

It wasn't until they had gotten some distance from each other, did John realize that the place Marc's band would be playing at was in the seedier side of town. But a promise was a promise.

_**He had managed to get Antoinette to come along and the following night they were on their way to see John's new friend's band.**_

They were just setting up, and when Marc spotted John, he announced, "This song I dedicate to my newest friend John!" and finished it off with a wink before starting.

Marc looked every bit the rock star and proved to be a very passionate performer.

The Poison Runaways rocked the house with their haunting blend of metal and classical, then finished the night with a goth-metal cover of Def Leppard's "Love Bites", and when they were done, Marc came off the stage to greet them. Now that Marc was close up, John could see his eyebrow piercing and his black eyeliner. Come to think of it, he looked kind of girlish!

"Hey! You actually showed!" the rocker cheered. "And this must be Antoinette!" he said. "You're right, she _is_ a cutie!"

"Why, thank you!" the girl accepted, beaming.

"Hey Marc, I'da sworn you were the drummer!" John commented.

"If I weren't singing, I'd be drummer, it's true," Marc admitted. But it was just as well, because the boy had some pipes on him!

"No offense, Marc, but your bandmates kinda weird me out," Antoinette cut in, as she observed the zombie-like movements of the band mates as they packed up.

Marc pinched his thumb and forefinger together, placed them to the corner of his mouth and made a sipping noise and explained, "They're stoners, but they play like the devil."

"You know, you should meet my other friends," John realized.

"Cool," Marc agreed.

"When's your lunch period?" John enquired.

"Fifth."

"Oh, wouldn't want you to miss class or anything," Antoinette noted.

Marc brushed it off. "No worries, cutie! I do nothing but cut." Noting the somewhat surprised look on her face, he added, "Don't be so shocked, sweetness. I'm only sticking around until my band gets signed, then we are so blowing outta here. I hear the music scene rocks in Japan."

Antoinette decided not to press the issue. "I think you'd do awesome. Your sound kinda puts me in the mind of Nightwish or Moon HeeJun," Antoinette encouraged.

"Oh my God, does Moon HeeJun rock! I have his first album!" Marc beamed.

"Me too!" Antoinette cheered.

"But you know whose first album really rocked? Eve!" Marc conversed.

"Oh my God. 'Agape' was my joint!" Antoinette squealed, and they both began singing the chorus—loudly.

John looked on pleased with himself. Apparently Antoinette wasn't the only person with a talent for bringing people together.

"Does this mean you forgive me?" John inserted.

"I'll think about it," Antoinette pouted playfully.

The three found seats and chatted about music for a little while longer until it was time for the couple to depart. As a parting gift Marc gave them both a copy of his demo CD.

For John, school just became a bit more bearable.

_**Wednesday Morning, the Grounds…**_

"John! So glad I caught you!" Helaprosti chirped, noticing when the Blue Keeper tried to sneak by him.

The other boy stopped, evidently annoyed that he had been discovered. Helaprosti continued to tinker with the Locale Settings for the Training Hall, toggling between snowy mountain peaks, to vast planes, to dense woods.

"You wouldn't be trying to get out of orientation this afternoon, would you?" the white-clad youth asserted, finally looking to his pupil still rooted in the doorway.

"No way," John mumbled, averting his eyes. Who ever heard of after-the-fact orientations?

"That's good to hear, because it just won't do to have technology you can't use, and weapons you can't summon because you couldn't recall where everything is," Helaprosti stated slyly. "That would be most—humbling, wouldn't you agree?"

"I know how to call my weapons, but whatever," John replied, slowly backing out of the doorway.

"But of course it's more complex than that so I should expect to see you this afternoon then, correct?"

"Yeah, yeah," John affirmed unconvincingly, making his way to the stairs.

"And should you fail to turn up, what should be done about you?" the White Keeper challenged.

This made the other pause and look back. Was that a threat?

Looking back at John was a pair of cold hazel eyes. This guy more than gave him the creeps, he was beginning to piss him off.

"Be here this afternoon, Blue Keeper. Not for _my_ sake, but for your team's," Helaprosti dismissed, and John gladly let himself out.

_**Fletcher High School...**_

John had never been that into school. He wasn't the studious type…not like Antoinette. So when Marc dropped him an instant message during seventh period asking him if he wanted to chill, John agreed, asking for a pass to the bathroom and never coming back.

So here he was, sitting with Marc on the deserted bleachers, somehow finding themselves talking about super-heroes, of all things…

"If you weren't already a superhero, which one would you wanna be like?" Marc asked, as if the notion that John being the Blue Keeper wasn't so shocking. It was a nice change…

"I don't know about _be like, _but I think Batman is cool. He's got his own demons and secrets to deal with, yet he keeps on fighting the good fight, you know? He takes the law into his own hands and he's got the means to execute," John offered.

"I'd have to go with Rogue," Marc replied.

"But Rogue's a chick!" John blurted.

"You figure that one out all by yourself there, Sherlock?" Marc snorted. "Her gender is beside the point. It's her _powers_ I'm most interested in. She can take on anyone's powers and use them. _That's_ power."

The subject was hitting uncomfortably close to home.

"What's wrong?" Marc asked.

"Nothing, just this whole superhero talk, you know?" John offered, hoping the subject would be dropped.

"Oh, my bad," Marc apologized, and then they fell into silence.

John took this opportunity to let his mind wander.

It was cold but he didn't mind. It was nice. Exactly the kind of moment he should be spending with Antoinette…

John then looked back over to Marc to catch the boy gazing at him. The other boy didn't immediately look away once he was caught, and it took him a few seconds to speak.

"Sorry…look, I'm gonna go," Marc finally announced, abruptly standing up and stepping out of the bleachers. John was a bit baffled.

"Marc, you don't gotta leave," John assured, but the other boy had already took off running.

_**Two Weeks Later…**_

In the short time they had known him, Marc had become a common—but not exactly consistent—fixture at the five's usual lunch table. It was so refreshing to have someone like Marc who was unfazed by their strange circumstance. And he was a cool guy to be around, to boot!

He had his trademark DJ-issue jumbo headphones on and was bobbing away as he made his way towards them. When he got near enough they could hear what he was singing…

_Your man, he told me that he's tired of the shit you got,_

_He took one hit and said my good shit keeps him coming back,_

_He likes it tight and says your shit is just a little slack,_

_Girl, don't get mad at me, I'm only tellin' you the facts..._

With every passing line he'd get more into the song, to the point where he jumped on the table, dancing like the king of the dancehall.

_I got your man and you can't do anything—about it,_

_You may think he is coming back to you but—I doubt it,_

_Don't make no sense you even call him and try to—work out it,_

_'Cause I got your man and you can't do anything—about it..._

The five, especially Antoinette, were positively dying of laughter. They had to practically wrestle him down from the table! Truth be told, Antoinette was tempted to get up there and join him!

Once down, Marc smiled broadly, giving Antoinette a twirl and a peck on the cheek. _Silly boy, _she thought.

_**After School, St. Arch Residence...**_

Brad had just begun to accept that he was no longer apart of the team and was trying to see it as a blessing in disguise, for at least now he could finish giving his car that upgrade he'd been putting off, when, standing at the end of his driveway, was the one person he tolerated only barely.

"What do you want, Kyle?" Brad asked, though he had a pretty good idea. Bringing his attention back to his car's engine his persisted, "Well?"

"Look man, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about everything. It wasn't my idea to take you off the team," Kyle began.

"Right. Nobody thought of the idea, but everybody sure agreed to it," Brad muttered. "Cut the crap, Kyle. What do you want?"

Looking a bit ashamed and plenty desperate, Kyle responded, "Brad man, I need help. I have no fucking clue what I'm doing..."

"And this has _what_ to do with me?" Brad cut in impatiently as he wiped his hands clean on a towel.

"Brad," Kyle began, swallowing hard. "We need you back on the team—bad."

Brad paused.

He then looked Kyle straight in the eyes and said, "You're Captain now. This is _your_ problem. Deal with it," and continued with his car, not seeing—or caring to see—the hurt yet unsurprised look pass over Kyle's face.

The visitor then quietly backed away and left.

_**Meanwhile…**_

**ZurieLockes:** _A yo John! where u at?_

**BluMoon:** _Park...Thx 4 running away, btw! '(;_;)'_

**ZurieLockes: **_sry… '(-.-)'_ _going 4 a ride. coming with?_

**BluMoon:** _Sure..._

**ZurieLockes:** _pick u up where?_

**BluMoon:** _Intermediate Hts. bet. Dale and Gooding. U kno where at?_

**ZurieLockes:** _Yup. C u in a few. Cio. '(O_~)'_

John shook his head with amusement as he put away his cell phone and teleported to his house.

It had been a while since his initial steps toward striking out on his own, and John decided it was high time he finished what he started.

"Oo, my goodness! When did you get here?" the woman—who was perpetually in a state of undress—exclaimed, holding her hand over her cleavage.

"Just now," John replied absently. He was already halfway up the stairs.

"What I tell ya? The little pansy's crawling back!" Dan mocked as he leapt from his post on the sofabed and made his way towards the stairs.

"Back up, old man. Thanks," John interceded and continued his climb.

"Still gotta get used to that _poof_-thing you guys do," the woman-thing confessed with a nervous chuckle. John paused. _Oh, isn't that cute! She's talking about teleportation!_ he rationalized.

"Moving on," John declared aloud and continued to his room.

John reached for his stash of cash and few more personal effects and was galloping back down the stairs in moments.

"Where will you go?" the female asked, tying closed the robe that it finally occurred to her to put on. If John cared enough he might've been touched by the concern the she-person displayed—but he didn't.

"To a friend's," he answered absently and had his hand on the doorknob when he heard Dan remark, "Probably to his boyfriend's house."

_And you wonder why I'm leaving._

John turned around and walked passed his father to address the living blow-up doll and said to her, "What's your excuse for still being here, hmm? Do you think that man _loves_ you?" he challenged, pointing backwards in his father's general direction.

"Woman, he doesn't even know the meaning of the word! Case in point; look at how he treats his own flesh and blood!" John said, pointing to himself. John didn't see the man flinch.

"Look at how he treats his own house!" he continued accusingly, finally looking at his father. "But if you guys really think that you can succeed where he and mom failed, then much power to you," he said, dropping the volume of his voice down to normal.

There was a pause before a horn could be heard outside the door. He stepped passed the stunned pair and opened the door to see Marc on his red motorcycle. John's lips curled into a smirk, his "parents" already forgotten.

Marc flipped up the visor on his helmet.

"You know I could just teleport," John joked.

"John, you spoil the moment," Marc shook his head. "Just hop on, smart-ass!" he chided and tossed John a helmet and in moments they were gone…

Marc brought the motorcycle to a stop at a gated off area. "Dude, you're so gonna hafta teach me how to do that," Marc marveled as they dismounted.

"Do what?" John asked, taking stock of his new surroundings.

"Teleport, silly," Marc replied, pocketing his keys and pushing open the gates.

"It's kind of a complex process," John admitted. Marc pouted. John smirked.

"Where are we?" John asked as they passed through a circular doorway.

"My favorite place on the planet." John looked around, marking the stone flooring, the trees and brightly-colored flowers of the indoor garden, the stone benches and the small wooden bridge arched over a little lake of live colorful fish.

"Which is?" John pressed.

"The Chinese Pavilion. It could be winter outside, but it'll always be spring in here," Marc finished with a tranquil smile as he unzipped his leather jacket.

Wow. John had to make it a point to take Antoinette here one day!

John spotted an orange flower and picked it, and then for the hell of it offered it to Marc, who took it with a pleasant smile and attempted unsuccessfully to put it in his hair.

"Here, let me," John offered and proceeded to fasten the flower expertly just above Marc's ear—a gesture he'd perfected with Antoinette.

"You're a sweetheart, you know that? No wonder Antoinette is so head over heels for you," Marc commented with a blush.

"You're welcome?" John beamed. 'Sweetheart' was not exactly the term associated with him.

"I have some news," Marc announced after they had been walking quietly for some time.

"Shoot," John encouraged.

"Me and the band are going to San Angeles to participate in the Battle of the Bands next week. I just might move down there," Marc finished, averting his eyes.

"You don't seem too happy," John observed with some concern.

"I was thrilled to be leaving this sleepy town weeks ago, but then I had to go and meet you and now I'm gonna miss this place." He looked up at John, hope shining in his eyes.

"We'll miss you too. I'm sure you'll kick ass..." John encouraged, but the rest of his sentence hung in the air, for Marc had turned away from him and was walking a little ahead.

"Dude, wait up!" John said, jogging to keep up, finally catching up to him on the bridge. Marc stopped and searched John's eyes before speaking.

"I..." Marc cleared his throat. "I, um…I like you, John," he finally blurted. John raised an eyebrow at this.

Marc began fidgeting. "I...I just thought I'd let you know, since, you know, I'm leaving and all." Marc was now nervously rambling and avoiding John's face altogether.

"Marc, calm…" John said trying to put the nervous boy at ease, but Marc kept going.

"And just in case you already knew, it wouldn't make any sense to deny it, you know?"

"Yo, breathe!" John commanded, fighting off the urge to burst out laughing as he held Marc by the shoulders.

Marc finally met John's eyes. "Marc, I'm not gonna beat you up or anything, geez!" and shook his head, still smiling, then put a reassuring arm around Marc's shoulders and continued over the bridge.

"So, um, can I ask you a favor?" Marc began.

"So long as it's nothing kinky," John joked, which earned him a playful jab to the ribs.

"Could you help me move my stuff? It's not too much but some of it's heavy," Marc elaborated.

"I should've known you only wanted me for my muscles," John delivered with a smirk, to which Marc replied with a raspberry.

Marc smiled and said, "Antoinette doesn't know how lucky she is." John smiled back—then got that tell-tale buzzing between his ears.

"_Yo, John! You busy?"_ the Blue Keeper received.

"Wussup, Brad?" John consented aloud.

"_Oh, nothing, just going to kick some zombie ass and thought you'd like to join,"_ Brad replied good-naturedly.

John smirked. "Name the place."

"_Alphabet Village. Be there or be square,"_ Brad informed, then closed the transmission. John shook his head.

"Duty calls?" Marc assessed with understanding.

"Afraid so," the teen hero confirmed.

"Come back in one piece, handsome," the slender boy requested sweetly. John smiled and then teleported out…

Alphabet Village. It's been a while. It sucked for John to see it get trashed like this. It was one of the last cool places left in Chestnut!

The others were already morphed. And there it was. The monster responsible. They would've laughed if the situation weren't so dire, for the creature looked absolutely ridiculous; so like a guy in a rubber suit.

"A little early for Halloween, isn't it?" Pete pointed out.

"Bad timing, Pete. Bad timing," Brad stated. He then conjured his sword and immediately put it in rifle mode. "Let's make quick work of this freak,"

"Agreed," Liz conceded. The others readied their weapons as well. Brad stepped out in front and fired a volley of standard bullets, stunning the ridiculous-looking monster, and immediately John and Pete rushed the monster, impaling it with their respective weapons. They then moved out of the way to let the girls do their thing.

Liz and Antoinette stood with their hands joined. From them formed a small force field about the size of a tennis ball, encircled with crystallized ice and electricity. The force field grew until it was about seven feet in height. The girls then launched it at the stupid-looking creature. The force field enveloped the monster and started to shrink around it, encasing it in about an inch of electrified ice. The monster was now literally frozen in place.

The final wave went to Brad and Helaprosti. Brad transformed his weapon back to Sword Mode and Helaprosti ignited his blade. They both rushed their foe, chopping it into chunks and stood back as the pieces fell.

The six regrouped. "Let's head back to the Grounds," Brad announced…but then something caught their eye; the pieces started to move—and then pull themselves back together! The monster was back on its feet, only this time where he had been separated could easily be seen.

"What the...?" Brad gaped.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," Pete commented.

The monster then hugged itself and hunched itself over, and from its spine popped fleshy strips that laced their way over the creature's limbs and torso, forming an armor of sorts and on its head appeared a metallic helmet and his hands turned to two huge maces. The creature then opened up his arms, sending a strange energy in all directions from its chest. The monster definitely looked more fearsome now...

The monster then slammed his mace fists into the ground, causing the earth to quake and crack, resulting in our six heroes sprawled out on the ground, bodies reverberating from the shock. The creature then waved its arms which caused a gust of wind to sweep the Rangers high into the air. It then brought the wind down like a sledge hammer upon them, slamming our six heroes down to the asphalt.

The assault didn't stop there. The pressure from its wind began to crush the Rangers into the cement—and just when they felt as though they'd be crushed to death the pressure eased!

They weren't ungrateful for the change in events, but they were definitely suspicious. The colorful warriors cautiously got to their feet.

"Gah!" Brad roared, favoring his leg. "This ends **now**!" Liz needed no other cue. She formed a force field around herself and her compatriots while Brad turned back to rifle mode.

"This would be the perfect time to pool our energies," Helaprosti suggested.

"My thoughts exactly," Brad concurred mostly to himself. "Let's combine our weapons!" Brad commanded.

Everyone procured their weapons except for John, who looked on baffled.

"What are you talking about?" he inquired.

"Well, John. When you were out getting distracted, _we_ were actually training," Helaprosti retorted as the other started fitting their now-transformed blades to Brad's rifle.

"Fuck you, Pross!" the Blue Keeper spat with contempt.

"Would you guys stop bickering and assemble the damn weapons already so I can drop my arms, please?" Liz cut in impatiently.

John, not knowing what to do, stood aside as the other contributed their weapons to the larger weapon. Liz dropped the force field and transformed her staff, shortening it, hallowing it out and making it rounder, then attached it to the bottom of the weapon, which now favored a bazooka.

The five contributing Keepers stood in a formation in order to heft the bazooka and aimed it at the now-imposing monster.

"Fire!" they all ordered as they shot forth an energy orb the size of a grapefruit towards the creature.

Their weapon was incomplete but it packed a decent punch, blasting the monster satisfyingly to smithereens.

"What the hell was _that _all about?" Brad wondered.

_**The Following Day…**_

Our heroes never did get used to the feeling they got walking down their school's halls—the one that let you know you were being stared at from behind, the front and the sides as well—but they soon came to realize that the whole ordeal was more bearable if they traveled in a group.

So three in a row, Antoinette, Liz and Pete walked down the hall, trying to ignore the potent awkwardness as they watched the student body part for them and stick themselves against the walls.

But just as unpleasant was the occasional human blockade…from none other than John's former friends, no less.

"Well, well, well. What have we here? The Parade of Freaks," one smartass commented.

"Look, we don't want any trouble," Pete offered with a touch of apprehension, all things considered.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, you little spick," the other jerk chimed in. "Powers or not, I could still stomp your little Hebrew ass into the ground,"

"Hey, watch your mouth," Liz snapped, always quick to defend one of her oldest friends.

"Is that a threat, Chaquita Banana?" he rebutted.

"You know, I don't need my powers to smack the shit out of you," Liz replied.

"Now everybody, do you hear what she said?" the other posed to the few stragglers.

"But isn't that interesting," moron #2 chimed. "Three of you and not a man in sight! Where's Brad the ape and John-John?" Pete had to be held back.

"Yeah, Condeleezza. It's 3pm. Do you know where your boyfriend is?" moron #1 jabbed. Antoinette bristled. "Oh, I know! I saw him with that pretty little homo at sixth period cutting through the football field. So I guess the Jungle Fever has passed, huh?" The girl's nose flared and she clenched her teeth, but kept her composure.

"What, no neck-roll? No foot-stomp?" he pressed. But these two must've known that they were skating on really thin ice right about then because she was a fireball even _before_ the Power, so a change in tone was in order.

"Look, I'm just saying, maybe you should keep a better eye on your boyfriend, or your boyfriend's gonna find a boyfriend, dig?"

Thing was, as nasty as these guys were being, Antoinette had to admit she had been thinking similar thoughts, and wasn't happy to hear it out loud from someone else.

"You know what's really funny about this whole thing?" Liz interjected, ever-sensitive to Antoinette's moods. "_You_ guys are still single, and now I see why! No girl _or_ guy would put up with you. But _you_ two suit each other just fine. So just confess your feeling for each other and get out of our faces!" Then Liz dragged the others away from those creeps and the gawking stragglers, and off of the premises.

Once they were far enough from the school, Liz broke the silence, assuring Antoinette, "He's nuts about you, _mija_. Everybody knows that."

Antoinette shook her head and acknowledged, "But that doesn't mean he won't break my heart."

_**Meanwhile…**_

The sunlight shown through the apartment's only window. They both sat on the floor of Marc's near-barren studio apartment. His trunk was packed and pushed up against a wall and now they were just relaxing.

John sat cross-legged, thoughtlessly strumming on the guitar Marc left out for him. Marc began to hum. John strummed to match.

"_When you make love,_ _do you look in the mirror," _Marc sang softly.

"_Who do you think of,_ _d__oes he look like me," _Marc continued, putting more feeling behind his voice.

"_Do you tell lies,_ _a__nd say that it's forever,_

_Do you think twice,_ _o__r just touch and see." _John closed his eyes and played along with more feeling.

"_I don't wanna touch you too much baby,_

'_Cause making love to you might drive me crazy,_

_I know you think that love is the way you make it,_

_But I don't wanna be there when you decide to break it,_

_Love bites, love bleeds," _John sung along.

"_It's bringin' me to my knees," _Marc continued by himself.

"_Love lives, love dies," _they both sang.

"_It's no surprise," _Marc sang.

"_Love begs, love pleads," _they duetted.

"_It's what I need," _Marc whispered.

John was only vaguely aware that Marc had stopped singing; John's eyes were still closed and he was in a zone. The next thing he knew, there was a light pressure on his hands forcing him to stop playing. John opened his eyes and took note of Marc's slightly parted lips and bedroom eyes.

John allowed Marc to put aside the guitar while he straightened his legs. His heartbeat quickened as Marc closed the distance between them. They were mere centimeters away from each other now. John eyed Marc's full lips with interest.

Something was coming over John that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but whatever it was, he saw no reason to fight it.

John slipped his hands under Marc's faded red t-shirt and wrapped his arms around his back before pulling the well-worn piece of cotton off of the smaller boy's body. Marc then took his sweet time unbuttoning John's shirt and then brushed it off of his shoulders.

Marc had straddled John's hips and lightly pushed the bigger boy down to the floor.

With his hands pressed against John's pecks, Marc asked seductively, "What would you like me to do?" the subdued boy breathed heavily as he looked up into Marc's pretty face. He then leaned back, tracing his hands down John's abs, then asked, "Do you want me to touch you?" and gyrated slightly which was maddening against John's hardening state. He groaned and squeezed his eyes closed.

"Look at me," Marc commanded. John obeyed. The slender boy raked a hand through his own shoulder-length hair and lightly bit the forefinger of his other hand before speaking again, "Tell me how badly you want me," then gyrated more suggestively and demanded, "Tell me."

What did Marc want him to say? That from the very beginning, he found himself strangely attracted to the boy? That knowing Marc had a crush on him didn't freak him out? That the thought of kissing him didn't suck?

Or did that beautiful boy want him to admit that if something wasn't done about his raging hard-on, he'd go berserk?

"God, what do you want from me?" John groaned.

Marc grinned wickedly. Sliding down to undo John's belt buckle, the bold boy insisted, "Clear your mind of Antoinette. I don't want you thinking about her when I'm with you."

He unzipped John's jeans, and pulled them down off of his hips and declare, "I want you all to myself; mind body and soul..."

Marc began kissing down John's abdomen, his hair tickling the muscular boy's skin as he continued ever southward…

John was tempted to grab a fistful of that azure hair and push the boy's head down…

He could feel Marc's teeth on the waistband of his boxers, teasing him with warm breath…So close…

_Jesus…_

John felt like he would go insane…but what the hell was he doing?

"Look, I don't think I should be doing this," John declared in a burst of sanity—and a good helping of guilt. "I mean, I like you and all…" he blurted as he screwed his eyes shut, trying not to think about his boner.

"It's okay," Marc reassured, taking his sweet time removing himself from the larger boy. "I got ahead of myself," he finished with a disappointed sigh.

"I'm sorry," Johninsisted, readjusting his clothes.

Marc shook his head, "God, you're cute. If only I had met you first."

"Look, I, uh, I gotta go," John announced, fumbling with his sneakers.

"You sure you don't want me to help you with that?" Marc asked, chuckling at the poor boy's pants. John groaned. Thank God for baggy jeans and teleportation.

"Thanks for helping me pack," Marc offered sweetly.

"Uh, no worries," John hastily replied, and was out the door in a flash.

_**That Evening, the Grounds…**_

"Have a seat, John," Helaprosti requested, gesturing to the Conference Table. The Library was shaping up to be John's least favorite place in the Grounds.

"Is this about me missing Orientation…?" he began as he took his seat, but Helaprosti waved him off.

"Stop, Blue Keeper. That is all past," he insisted, then sat across from his pupil. "I detect that you haven't been coping well with your new responsibilities. That is most unfortunate, but I can't afford to lavish you with patience."

John recoiled a bit. "Then why the hell did you call me in here?" the teen snapped, popping out of his seat.

"Sit, John. Please," the mentor requested. Begrudgingly, John complied.

"I'm not going to scold you. You're not a baby and I'm not your father," the White Keeper began. "But I _am_ concerned about you."

John balked. "What do you mean?"

"I shouldn't be telling you this, but you are quite a talented Keeper. That is the problem," Helaprosti continued.

"Me," the teen scoffed in disbelief. "Not Brad." Helaprosti snorted.

"You, John. And if you do not extend yourself to the team, someone else will reach out to _you._" The White Keeper sighed. "Look, I know I didn't give you plenty of time to absorb with exactly is expected of you—of _all_ of you. But we landed on Ptep's radar far sooner than I'd like. I do not want to pressure you, but I must. John, I cannot replace you. I cannot replace any of you. We are stuck with each other, like it or not. So if you are going to be here, be here."

"Whoa, Pross…what if you're wrong?" John replied, overwhelmed.

"I can't afford to be wrong, John," Helaprosti confessed. "So I need you to work with me, not against me—no matter your feelings about me." John flinched.

"Now, about that Orientation," Helaprosti reasserted with a smile.

_Later…_

It was very rare that Helaprosti even felt the need to sleep, so he hardly visited his own quarters. But had it not been for this atypical need to rest, he would not have heard his _dommita_ [little sister] weeping in her room.

He didn't need special abilities to figure out the reason. Those were the tears of a conflicted heart. But as close as he felt to her, he still wasn't certain if he was the right one to comfort her.

Still, he was no stranger to the pangs of love, so he decided he would try. But upon arrival, he heard a second voice. It seemed she already had company…

"Am I being stupid? I mean, I could be reading too much into this," he heard her say.

"Come here, mama. It's okay," he heard the Pink Keeper console.

"Maybe if I weren't so swept up in this whole public address thing. Maybe if I were more interesting, you know? Sexier, like you. I don't know…What's wrong with me?" Antoinette lamented.

"Mommy, stop," Liz reprimanded.

"Am I not pretty enough?"

"Sweety, stop it! He knew exactly what he was getting when he got with you, and you know what, baby? I never heard him once complain. Honey, he loves you. I know it."

"I wish I could be as sure as you," the disheartened girl confessed.

"Oh, sweety," Liz relented. "Come to bed."

Helaprosti didn't have to hear much more.

Antoinette's journey had just begun which would test her heart and her mind, and for that he'll be there for her.

But tonight was for rest.

_**A Few Days Later...**_

**BluMoon: **_Hey, blueberry-head! I'm at the skool. Where r u?_

**ZurieLockes: **_Basement. I'll let u in._

John then closed his phone and waited. Shortly after, Marc's dyed head could be seen poking out of one of the narrow lower windows.

"Come around to the side," the boy instructed and let John in.

Down below was as dank and uninviting as a basement you weren't supposed to be in ever could be. "You said you had something for me?" the bigger youth reminded, trying to figure out what that smell was.

"Yeah, a parting gift," Marc confirmed.

Marc gazed upon John tenderly, then his features shifted to mischievous, sporting a smirk as he gently but insistently pushed John backwards into the janitor's closet whose door was conveniently open. "I have plans for you, John," the boy stated.

Marc's eyes seemed to glisten as he pulled the door closed and flipped off the light switch.

Those eyes...what was up with those eyes? Even though the closet was now dark, John could swear that Marc's eyes were…glowing. Glowing golden eyes...

John stood transfixed as Marc approached him and rested a hand lightly against his face. Then something occurred to him, and he had to smirk. "I guess I gotta hand it to you, I shoulda seen this coming," John reasoned, trying to keep things light despite how awkward this was getting.

"You kinda did walk into it," Marc concurred softly, and then leaned up to place a light kiss on the other's lips. John tensed, but Marc persisted with soft kiss after soft kiss until the taller boy relented.

_Okay, John…_ the bigger boy silently scolded himself as Marc snaked his slender arms around his neck.

…_You can back up now, _John urged himself as Marc deepened his kisses.

_Any time now, _the Blue Keeper silently pleaded, but to no avail; his feet were rooted in place.

Marc then moved his lips to John's neck, and proceeded to kiss it softly, at points using his tongue. _Uh…shit…_

"You're trying to turn me out, aren't you?" John finally realized aloud, yielding completely.

"Exactly," Marc confirmed. Then John felt teeth, and he winced and closed his eyes against the piercing, sweet pain. _Fuck..._

John was beginning to feel lightheaded. He couldn't breathe and his whole skin felt hot. He was slipping out of consciousness. But before he completely slipped out, he saw those spellbinding golden eyes looking at him…

"Lotet ja jwo tuciz hirguturovet icjurudijoshara." _We look forward to the final sacrifice._

_John recognized this place._

_He was kneeling again in that strange dark room, chanting those strange words._

_John feared what he knew to come next._

_Just then he felt warm breath tickle his ear, and a whispered voice that urged, _"Follow me."

_Someone had taken him by the hand and was leading him to that chapel._

_As dread-filled as John was, why wasn't he resisting?_

_Was he still not in his own body?_

_And he didn't ever recall there being another person in that room..._

_He was then put in front of the mirror..._**God, no**...

_The person walked around him, finally coming to a stop behind him._

_The person then removed the hood from John's head and he could see himself clearly._

**I could see...myself? What...?**

_He could also see the person behind him over his shoulders._

_It took John a moment to process the face. _**Marc?**

_Marc proceeded to remove John's cloak and the shirt beneath._

_John could feel, as well as see Marc piercing eyes upon him as his hands roved over John's exposed body..._

_Then felt Marc's lips as he kissed John's shoulder, moving to his neck and finally settling at his earlobe, all the while caressing John's chest._

_John closed his eyes and let Marc's kisses envelope him..._

_He let a moan escape his lips...Marc chuckled._

_Marc turned John's face towards him and ensnared John's mouth in a possessive kiss, then dragged his nails across John's bare chest._

_After a long while, Marc released John's lips and offered, _"Let me help you."

_John was mesmerized by those golden glowing eyes and felt something pointy being traced down his torso...__**The Knife!**_

_John then felt something sharp being thrust deep into his gut...How could he have forgotten about the knife?_

_The metallic taste of his own blood flooded his mouth..._

_He looked upon Marc with wide eyes...His legs became wobbly..._

_One last time, Marc's lips met with his, then released him to let him fall..._

_But just before John hit the ground, he heard Marc say,_

"Welcome to the dark side."

_John knew no more..._

John woke with a start in a cold sweat and felt the bandage on his neck realizing that he was back at the Grounds. _What the fuck happened? In that closet, what the fuck happened?_ John's mind started to race as he tried to piece everything together.

He remembered Marc kissing him. He remembered Marc's lips on his neck...how good it felt...John shook his head. _Get back on track, John,_ he scolded himself. He remembered teeth...Teeth? John felt his neck again.

Had he been _bitten?_ Had Marc _bitten_ him?

Shaking off what lingered of the dream, John made his way from the Infirmary to the Shower Room. He stood over the sink for a second before turning on the water, then let it run a little before taking the cold water and splashing his face.

_Marc has some real explaining to do..._

John coughed and absently wiped his mouth with his hand, then reached over to turn the water off, but he stopped short—for the hand that wiped his mouth came away bloody!

"Shit!" John gasped, horrified. His eyes then shot up to the mirror, and the moment he caught a glimpse of his eyes, the mirror broke. "What the fuck is happening to me?"

John was beyond freaked out. He recoiled, slowly backing out of the shower room. He let his feet carry him away and soon found himself at Antoinette's quarters where he hoped she would be. He was shaken. He just needed some reassurance…

After finding John in that basement, Antoinette had taken it upon herself to stay with him, not asking her father's permission, per se, but respecting him enough to at least tell him her plans. And so here she was, in her Quarters trying to sleep but failing.

Her thoughts were preoccupied with worry over John and his current state and her own anxiety of her impending public address.

"Antoinette…"

She heard her name and turned towards the sound. The voice came from the dark figure standing at her door and it took her a moment to place the whispered voice. "John! You're feeling better!" She received no reply.

Antoinette sat up in her bed. "John?"

He came towards her and sat on the edge of her bed. In the faint moonlight, she could make out that John was distressed. She wanted nothing more than to comfort him.

"What's wrong, baby?" _Come to me,_ Antoinette requested as she slipped her arms around his neck and gently pulled him close.

"Antoinette, I..." John breathed as he rested his hands on her waist and looked into her eyes. Antoinette slid her hands down to rest on his bare chest.

"Yes?" the girl whispered as she returned his gaze.

"I need..." John began as he lightly touched her neck, eyeing his hand's progress, and brushed his girlfriend's nightshirt from one shoulder, revealing more of her neck and the tops of her bosom.

He drew her in closer, eyeing at the smooth skin and soft lips. God, she had never looked more striking…

Antoinette's heart was pounding in her chest. God, the way he was looking at her! Like she was the most desirable thing in the world. It made her feel so sexy. The sensation was positively…intoxicating…

John then leaned in to kiss her and she savored the sensation; it had definitely been a while.

He then broke the kiss and looked at her again before sliding behind her. The boy then took her by the hips and brought her in, and began softly kissing her neck…

The girl closed her eyes as her boyfriend's hand slid under her nightshirt and rested on her stomach.

And then it occurred to her; this may actually happen. Was she ready?

Then she realized, as John's hand roamed, that the answer was most glaringly—no.

No, she wasn't ready.

God…

But if she wasn't ready, why did those lips assaulting her neck, the hands cupping her breasts, and the firmness she was pressed up against feel so damn good?

She didn't want to think for once. She just wanted to bask in how this was making her feel.

_God, John…Do. __**Something!**_

Antoinette sighed…

There it was.

Those tell-tale tremors under his lips, the pulsing of those vital veins just beneath her skin…

_**~She's all yours~**_a voice in his head pointed out. _**~Take her~**_

God, she felt so good…

He slid one hand slowly downward, beneath all the cloth. She gasped and tensed against his unwavering touch, but soon relaxed, arching her back into him letting his fingers do as they pleased.

"Uh…John," she moaned, throwing her head back—exposing more of her neck.

_**~Hear how she calls for you…do not disappoint her~**_ the voice urged.

The boy's gums began to throb.

_**~You need her…take her!~**_it goaded.

John disengaged his hands and thrust her into him until she was practically in his lap, and held her firmly against him so that neither could mistake what was strained against his slacks. He then widened his mouth against her neck. _**~Just begging to be penetrated~**_the voice declared.

"Oh, God…John…" the girl gasped, reaching behind her to rake her fingers through his hair.

But then he opened his eyes as if coming out of a fog, and hastily withdrew. He suddenly found it hard to breathe.

Concerned, Antoinette turned to face her boyfriend.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she posed gently as she passed her hands over his flushed face, then whispered, "Talk to me."

He hadn't even realized that he had been squeezing his eyes shut until her fingers passed over his eyelids.

The fingers tickling the back of his neck were soothing and soon he let his eyes reopen. And looking back at him was a pair of loving brown eyes.

_You are so beautiful…_

He let his gaze travel down, along her neck and finally settling on that exposed flesh. He brushed the barely-there nightshirt even further off her shoulders and imagined taking one of those perfect little orbs into his mouth…

_**~Devour her~**_the voice came again.

John lowered trembling lips to the newly exposed skin, but before they could make contact, he gasped, "I need air," and backed away, looking spooked.

Before Antoinette could make a move towards him, he had teleported out, leaving her baffled, even more concerned—and feeling totally exposed…

_**At the Chinese Pavilian…**_

"What the fuck was _that__?_" John demanded as he tried to gather his bearings. The air conditioning made the tiles under John's bare feet cold.

He let himself slump into the stone bench, and stared off into the lake…

He tried to shake off the eerie feeling that enveloped his senses. He shook at the realization of what he wanted to do to Antoinette. What he _needed_ to do.

What he needed to do...

Where'd that come from? Need...

What did he need? He was scaring himself. Oh God, what was happening to him?

"Miss me?" asked a voice not too far away from him. John looked up to see that it was Marc. He was somehow the source of all this! John couldn't figure out how, but that had to be it!

John leapt up from his seat in a rage and punched the newcomer. Marc landed hard on his hands and knees, but was surprisingly silent. "What the fuck did you do to me?" John seethed. He couldn't see Marc's face passed all that hair, but Marc was noticeably shaking. Other than that, he didn't move.

Despite himself John was getting concerned, and was torn between helping the blue-haired boy up and leaving him there. But the part of John that wanted to help won.

John bent down and picked the limp boy up by the upper-arms. Marc flinched and looked upon John with a glint of fear in his eyes. John didn't like it. Didn't he promise Marc he wasn't going to hurt him?

He also noticed that he had busted the boy's lip.

"I'm sorry, man," John apologized. Truth be told, he really did miss him.

The larger boy wiped the blood trailing from the boy's lip ruefully yet noted with amazement how the swelling of Marc's lips made them look even more fascinating.

John licked his thumb.

Despite the fact that he had brushed away that first little rivulet, more still trickled down.

_What a waste, _John thought as he leaned into the slender boy and trailed the blood back up to Marc's lips with the tip of his tongue.

The smaller boy was panting now, looking up at John uneasily. Why did he find that so damn hot?

The bigger boy now had Marc by the lips, kissing them mercilessly. He ignored that tiny little voice inside that was screaming at him that this was very, very wrong, and focused on the feel and taste of Marc's usually-willing mouth.

Marc was resisting, pushing John back, and John countered by pulling the other closer still.

He ignored the voice telling him to stop, and instead listened to the sound of Marc's whimpers turning to moans.

John then bit down on the other's already cut lip, kissing away the fresh flow of metallic-sweet.

Marc was yielding now, choosing to snake his arms around John's bare back.

"Mmm..." Marc moaned in his mouth.

_God..._ John concurred. John then pulled out of the kiss and looked hungrily into Marc's eyes as he licked his lips. He laced his fingers in Marc's hair and pulled down, revealed more of Marc's neck and assaulted it with kisses.

"Yesssss...take me..." Marc begged. John could feel Marc's nails raking into his back. John's body began to quake with need…

Need…

_What am I doing?_

He pushed Marc off and backed away, clutching his head. His world was spinning out of control and he couldn't make it stop.

"Who are you?" John asked, finding his voice. Marc began closing the distance between them, donning that same mischievous grin—and that golden glow in his eyes. John couldn't bring himself to back away. When he was close enough, Marc wrapped his arms around John's neck and brought him into an embrace.

Looking up into John's face Marc asked, "Do you really wanna know?"

"Yes," John sighed and closed his eyes.

Bringing his lips up to John's ear, he whispered, "All you need do is look in the mirror," and disengaged his arms.

And moments later, when John reopened his eyes, Marc was gone.

_

* * *

December 24, 2010, Zen'Aku Lati_

'_(O_~)'_


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